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Nancy Hartshorn 


CHAUTAUQUA. 


MRS. NANCY J^ARTSHORN., ^:3>vU\, 

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New York: 

J. S. OGILVIE & COMPANY, 

31 ROSE STREET. 


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Copyright, 1882, 

BY 

J. S. Ogilvie & Co. 




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To THE 


C^0Msanir 

Of the Chautauqua Literary Scientific Circle, 

AMONG WHOM ARE SOME OF MY BeST FrIENDS, 

THIS Volume is respectfully Dedicated. 


The Author. 



CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER page 

I. How I MADE UP MY MIND TO GO 9 

II. The Start 24 

III. Our Tent 33 

IV. The “ Ampletheater” Meetinq 46 

V. Going to the “ Store” *. 58 

VI. Ram Shunder Bozy’s Lecture 71 

VII. Feeding THE C. L. S. C.’S 91 

VIII. The Grand Sunday School iii 

IX. “ The Airly Lecter” 132 

X. Our Dinner at the Eating-House 166 

XI. Mr. Berd’s Pictures 187 

XII. Getting Ready to go Home 197 


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Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


CHAPTER 1. 

HOW I MADE UP MY MIND TO GO. 

It was ruther sing’ler, my goin’ ter Che- 
tauquy in the fust place. Now, I never was 
one o’ the kind ter be galvantin’ ’round and 
goin’ ter ev’rything that comes ’long, fur 1 
alers tho’t ’twas more ’spectable ter ’tend ter 
one’s consarns ter home, than ter be neglectin’ 
’em an’ runnin’ off ter see or hear sumthin’ 
o’ ruther. The Deacon (that’s my husband) 
is pritty much the same way o’ thinkin’, so I’ve 
alers stayed ter home mostly, ’ceptin’ when we 
went ter Penns’lvany some fifteen year ago 
ter see his folks, and ain’t never bin ’round 
much, an’ I ’xpect ’twould a’ bin the same way 
the rest o’ my life, if Providence hedn’t or- 
der’d diff’runt. The way it come ’bout was 
this : One day ’long in June — I r’member cer- 
tin’ ’twas in June — ’cause I’d bin puttin’ up 
strawberries all the mornin’, and what with 
bein’ on my feet so much an’ it’s bein’ so 
warm, I was ’bout tuckered out by noon, but 


lo Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


arter I got my work done up, an’ the dishes 
set away, and hed rested a bit, it struck me 
I’d run over and set awhile with Mandy Hop- 
kins, fur I hedn’t bin in fur quite a spell, and 
I was ’feerd she’d think I was neglectin’ her. 
Mandy ain’t noways r’lated ter me, but I’ve 
alers felt ’twas my dooty ter sort o’ look arter 
her, seein’ she’s ’lone in the wurld ’thout any 
near r’lashuns, and needed sumbody ter look 
ter fur advice. Now, I’m alers perfeckly 
willin’ ter giv my advice ter folks fur nothin’ 
when I see they need it, fur I’ve learnt a good 
many things in my life, an’ one o’ ’em is that 
folks don’t of’en want any body else’s advice 
bad ’nough ter pay fur it, so I never ’xpect 
ter git rich tellin’ any one what they’d better 
do. I kal’late I’ve lived long ’nough and seen 
’nough ter hev pritty good jedgmunt in most 
things, and if anybody wants the use of it, 
they’re welcum to it. But there’s sich a dif- 
f’runce in folks ’bout lamin’ anything. It 
does seem as tho’ the older sum git, the less 
they know. 

There’s the Deacon — not that I say it ter 
r’flect on him, but he’s drefful set in his way, 
and he thinks jest as he did twenty-five year 
ago on sum pints, fur all I’ve tried as hard as 
any woman could ter bring him ’round ter 
my way o’ thinkin’. / never was so conseeted 
but what I was willin’ ter learn sumthin’ from 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtta. 1 1 


them that knew more’n I did, and when I see 
folks persistin’ in hevin’ their own way, jest 
’cause 'tis their way, it don’t take me long ter 
set ’em down fur all they’re wuth. But I 
started out ter tell ’bout my goin’ ter Mandy’s, 
but if I go ter ramblin’ off like this, I never 
shell git ter it. 

Wal, I found Mandy bizzy as ever, sewin’ 
’way as if her life depended on it. I sh’d a 
sed ’fore that she was a dressmaker, but that 
ain’t no reason why I go there so much, fur 
’tain’t like me ter be pryin’ ’round, an’ tryin’ 
ter find out what my nabors is goin’ ter hev 
new. She was makin’ up sum light-colored 
stuff with lots o’ fussin’ and trimmin’ on it, 
and I couldn’t help wonderin’ who ’twas fur. 
Arter I’d got out my knittin’ an’ we’d talked 
a spell, an’ she didn’t say nothin’ ’bout it, I 
sez, “ ’Pears ter me sumbody’s goin’ ter hev 
sumthin’ pritty fine.” “Yes,” sez she, laffin’, 
“an’ that sumbody’s me.” “You,” sez I; “ye 
don’t mean ter say that dress is fur you ?” 
“Why not?” she axed; “don’t I desarve a 
new dress ?” “Yes,” sez I, “ but ye don’t gin- 
’rally go inter the fixin’s like that; Mandy 
Hopkins !” sez I, as sumthin’ struck me all of 
asuddin’, “that ain’t fur no ’speshel ’cashun, 
is it?” “Yes,” sez she agin, “’/A fur sum 
’speshel’ cashun,” and then she laffed harder’n 
ever. I ’xpect I looked ruther hurt fur I 


12 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


hedn’t knowed o’ her keepin’ comp’ny with 
any one, and I tho’t if she’d bin and ’ngaged 
herself ter sum man ’thout sayin’ anything 
ter me ’bout it, it wasn’t usin’ me very well. 

When she see I didn’t laff with her she 
sobered down and sed, No, Mrs. Hartshorn, 
I ain’t goin’ ter be married, but I’m goin’ ter 
Chetauquy.” “ Goin’ ter Chetauquy !” sez I. 

Land sakes, child ! what’s put that idee inter 
yer head?” “ Well, I ’spose ’twas the Jonses 
that fust set me ter thinkin’ ’bout it,” sez she. 
“Ye see. I’ve bin sewin’ fur them fur a spell, 
an’ I ain’t heerd much else talked ’bout. They 
went last year and air goin’ agin this, and 
bearin’ ’em say so much kinder made me want 
ter go too. I got ter thinkin’ how I’d alers 
staj^ed ter home, and fixed other folks ter go 
off sumwhere and hev a good time, an’ never 
went myself, when I hed jest as good a right 
ter go as anybody. 

“Well, I kept thinkin’ it over, an’ it ended in 
my decidin’ that I’d giv myself a vacashun 
this summer, an’ go ter Chetauquy with the 
rest of ’em.” “ Won’t it cost a good deal?” I 

axed. “ Not so very much the way I figger 
it,” sez she; “anyhow, what little money I’ve 
got is my own, an’ I kin spend it as I’ve a 
mind ter, and as long’s I ain’t got ter ax 
anybody’s leave, 1 don’t see what’s ter hinder 
my goin’. There’s only one thing in the way, 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 13 


and that is, there’s no one ter go with me. 
It’ll be lonesum not ter hev sumbody ’long ter 
talk ter.” “ Where be ye goin’ ter stay ?” sez 
I. I was feelin’ a leetle sore yit fur I tho’t 
she might at least hev axed me what 1 tho’t 
’bout it, ’fore she made up her mind ter go, but 
I wasn’t goin’ ter let her know it. “ I’m goin’ 
with Mr. Baker’s folks,” sez she. “They’re 
goin’ ter hev a double- tent, and they sed I 
might hev a part of it. If I could find sum 
one ter take it with me I’d be jest suited. 

“ O Mrs. Hartshorn !” sez she, all of a 
sudd’n, “ why can’t you go ?” “ Me go ?” sez 
I ; and I declare if she didn’t giv me sech a start 
that I dropped half a dozen stitches in my 
knittin’. “ Why, Mandy Hopkins, I gess ye’ve 
lost yer senses.” “ No, I ain’t,” sez she, “ I’ve 
got ’em all yit. ’Tain’t no sign I’ve lost ’em 
’cause I want ye ter go ter Chetauquy ; ye can 
go jest as well as not, and ye’d ’njoy it as much 
as anybody. Come, now, won’t ye go?” she 
axed. I was so took back with her proposin’ 
sech a thing that I didn’t know what ter say. 
I did a good deal o’ thinkin’ fur the next few 
minits and then I sez, “ I don’t know’s I know 
much what ’tis; is it like a camp-meetin’P” 

“ Well, yes,” sez she, “ sumthin’ like it ; most 
ev’rybody takes a tent, but Miss Jones sed a 
good many folks hed built ’em houses, and 
then there’s places where them that ain’t got 


14 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


anywhere ter stay kin board. There’s sights 
o’ folks go, and they hev preachin’ an’ prayer- 
meetin’ an’ Sunday-school ev’ry day, and hev 
a real nice time. I wish you’d go,” sez she. 
“ ’ Tain’t no use thinkin’ o’ sech a thing,” sez 
I. “Ye never could git the Deacon ter go if 
ye talked ter him a month.” “ Let him stay 
ter home then,” sez she; “but that ain’t no 
reason why you should. It’s a pity if he can’t 
take care o’ himself an’ let you go off once 
in awhile. If ye alers stay ’cause he don’t 
want ye to go, ye’ll alers hev ter. That’s the 
way with a man,” sez she, jerkin’ her needle 
so hard she broke her thread. “ They think 
a woman ain’t no bisness ter ever go any- 
where, but jest stay ter home and git their 
meals, and take care o’ their clothes fur ’em. 
A woman might as well be dead and hurried 
as ter be married, ’cordin’ ter my thinkin’. 
I’m thankful there ain’t any man ter say what 
I orter do,” and she looked as tho’ she wished 
there wasn’t sech a thing as a man livin’. I’d 
never seen her so riled up ’fore, an’ I couldn’t 
help thinkin’ mebbe a man hed sumthin’ ter 
do with it, fur I hed tho’t she ’peared to feel 
a good deal friendly ter sum of ’em, but I was 
so taken up with what she’d proposed, that I 
didn’t stop ter think what ’twas that hed 
changed her ’pinyon. I kept turnin’ it over 
in my mind ter see if there was any way I 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 15 


could fix it so I could go, fur what she’d sed 
hed made me want ter go as bad as she did. 

I hedn’t any idee the Deacon would go, or 
be willin’ I sh’d go ’thout him, but I didn’t 
want her ter think I couldn’t do as I wanted 
ter ’bout it, so when she begun agin urgin’ 
me ter go, I tried ter bring up some other 
’scuse, but she wouldn’t take no fur an anser ; 
and when I got up ter go home I’d almost sed 
I would, but I thought mebbe I’d better wait 
till I’d hed time ter think more ’bout it. I 
kept thinkin’ all the way there, wonderin’ 
what ’twas best ter do, whether ter make up 
my mind ter go, and then tell the Deacon 
what I was goin’ ter do an’ let him say what 
he hed a mind ter, or whether ter kind o’ 
work ’round on his blind side till he giv in 
peace’ ble ’thout hevin’ any words ’bout it. 

I’ve lived with the Deacon a good many 
year, and I orter know pritty well how ter 
manige him, but I’m free ter say it’s more’n I 
know how ter do yet, ter git ’long with him 
when I want my own way. I think I’ve sed 
’fore that he was dreadful set, and when any- 
body goes to crossin’ him he’s apt ter say 
sumthin’ ’bout it, and jest as likely as not it’ll 
be sumthin’ pritty cuttin’. ’Tain’t ter my 
mind ter be hevin’ words with him, but I gin’- 
rally feel called ’pon sech times ter tell him 
sum things. When he gits roused up a good 


1 6 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


deal he’s likely ter say sumthin’ that ain’t be- 
comin’ in a deacon, and ’tain’t a pleasant way 
o’ gittin’ ’long, so sumtimes I’ve maniged ter 
git ’round him and git what I wanted ter, 
’fore he found out what I was at. But I do 
hate ter be coaxin’ a man up, feedin’ him pun- 
kin’ pie and fried cakes ter make him do as I 
want him ter, jest as tho’ he was a big baby. 
I alers feel as if ’twas a lettin’ down ter do it. 
Either way was bad ’nough, an’ I couldn’t 
fur the life o’ me choose ’tween ’em, so I 
fin’lly settled it by sayin’ I’d wait awhile 
’fore I sed anything, and then be guv’rned by 
sarcumstances. 

Wall, it run ’long sev’ril days, and then sure 
’nough sarcumstances did guv’rn it. 

One mornin’, when we was eatin’ breakfust, 
the Deacon sez, “ I heerd ’em tellin’ down ter 
the store last night that the Bakers is goin’ 
ter the camp-meetin’ ter Chetauquy.” I 
didn’t know whether he ’proved of it or not 
by the way he spoke, but I see he ’xpected 
me ter say sumthin’, so I sez, “Yes, I heerd 
they was goin’; Mandy Hopkins is goin’ with 
’em, and she wants me ter go.” 

“Wants — you — ter — go?” sez he, as if ’twas 
the most redic’lous thing he ever heerd of. 
“Yes,” sez I, and seein’ the time hed come, I 
made up my mind I’d hev it out quick an’ be 
done with it. “ An’ what’s more, Vmgom\ and 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 1 7 


’tain’t no use fur ye ter say anything agin it, 
neither. I’ve stayed here and worked, year in 
and year out, and never got any thanks fur it, 
and now I’m goin’ ter take a vacashun with 
the rest o’ folks. Ye can’t say I ain’t arned 
it, and, seein’ it’s the fust one I ever hed, ye’d 
better be peace’ble ’bout it, fur I’m setter go, 
and ye can’t stop it.” Anybody ’d orter seen 
the Deacon’s face when I got throu’ ! I’d 
talked so fast fur fear I shouldn’t say all I 
wanted ter, that he hedn’t a chance ter git in a 
word edgeways, and he just set with his mouth 
open, and looked at me as if he tho’t I’d gone 
ravin’ crazy. 

Ef I’d bin seein’ him then fur the fust time I 
don’t b’lieve I sh’d a fell in love with him 
very bad, fur he didn’t look as hansum as a 
picter. He ain’t got but one lock o’ hair left 
in front, and when it gits pritty long it hangs 
down on his for’head ’bout like them bangs, 
as they call ’em, that the gals is wearin’ so 
much now’days, and ’tain’t any more becomin’ 
ter him ’n ’tis ter them. He hedn’t shaved 
fur sev’ril days, and ’sides, there was sumthin’ 
cornin’ on the end o’ his nose that looked as 
tho’ it might be a bile when it got settled, 
and, takin’ him altergether, he didn’t make a 
very favor’ble ’pearance. He waited so long 
’fore he sed anything that I didn’t know but 


1 8 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


he was struck dum, but he finally got his 
breath agin’. 


“ Nancy Hartshorn,” sez he, “ ez fur yer 
thinkin’ that I’m goin’ ter giv my consent ter 



nobody’s axed yer to, has there?” sez I. 


any sech foolishness, 3^e kin jest giv it up ter 
wunst, fur I shan’t go one step !” “ Nobody’s 
axed yer to, has there ?” sez I. I kal’late 
I’m old ’hough to go and take keer o’ myself, 
and you’re old ’nough ter stay ter home ah’ 


N^ancy Hartshorn at C hautatiqzia, 19 


do the same. I reckon I sh’dn’t git much 
comfert out of it if ye did go, fur ye’d be 
growlin’ ’bout sumthin’ o’ ruther all the time.” 
I declare ’twas wuth goin’ a good ways ter 
have seen him then. 

His face hed bin gittin’ redder ’n redder, 
till it looked like a big ripe punkin under a 
wisp o’ hay. I could see he was ter’ble wro’t 
up, but I wasn’t goin’ ter be beat out o’ 
speakin’ my mind fur all that. He hed ter 
think a spell ter find sumthin’ ter say next, 
and then he sez, Who’s goin’ ter giv ye 
money ter go with ? Ye needn’t count on any 
o’ mine, I want ye ter understand.” No- 
body’s axed yer fur it,” sez I, agin. ‘‘Thank 
goodness, I’ve got a leetle money that I’ve 
laid by from sellin’ eggs and butter that didn’t 
come out o’ your pocket, and since I’ve arned 
it, I ’xpect I kin do what I want ter with it.” 
That wound him up. I shouldn’t wonder if it 
r’lieved him sum when he found ’twasn’t goin’ 
ter cost him nothin’, but he was dreadful 
stirred up yit, fur I don’t rec’llect as I’d ever 
set my foot down so ’bout anything ’fore, an’ 
he didn’t know what ter make of it ; anyway, 
he didn’t seem ter find anything ter say ter 
what I sed last, and pritty soon he took his 
hat and went off ter the barn. 

I took a good deal o’ comfort in thinkin’ 
I’d come out a leetle ahead that time, for he 


20 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


don’t ofen git where he can’t say nothin’. 
Wall, he never so much as peeped ’bout it 
arter that. I reckon he see ’twasn’t no use 
makin’ any disturbance, but he was mighty 
toppin’, and acted as if he tho’t he’d bin used 
awful. The only thing he sed was when I 
axed him if he hedn’t better eat over ter Miss 
Slater’s while I was gone. “ I reckon I kin 
do my own cookin’,” sez he, as lofty as a brig- 
ad eer-gineral. “ I took keer o’ myself ’fore I 
ever see you, and I cal’late I ain’t furgot how 
yit.” 

^‘My sakes !” sez I, “if I’d knowed that 
’fore I shouldn’t a staid ter home as much as I 
hev. I sort o’ hed an idee ye couldn’t git 
’long ’thout me.” “ That’s where yer a leetle 
mistaken. Mis. Hartshorn,” sez he. I was rale 
glad I’d found it out, fur I’d bin fidgitin’ as 
ter how he’d manige ter git ’long, and ’twas 
a big load off ter know he wasn’t goin’ ter 
starve ter death. Mandy was dreadful pleased 
when I told her I was goin’. I didn’t tell her 
but what the Deacon was perfeckly willin’, 
fur I don’t b’lieve in tellin’ my ’fairs ter ev’ry- 
body. “ Hev ye got any sewin’ te^ do ?” she 
axed, “ if ye hev, bring it over an’ I’ll help ye 
with it.” “ No,” sez I, “ I ain’t goin’ ter take 
nothin’ but my black alpacky fur best, and a 
caliker fur mornin’, so I shan’t need much 
sewin’ done.” 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 21 


Ain’t ye goin’ ter take yer black silk dress ?” 
sez she. 

“ No, I ain’t,” sez I. “ ’Tain’t no place ter be 
switchin’ ’round with a silk dress in the woods. 
Nobody of any sence would think o’ sech a 
thing.” “Well, I gess you’d better take it,” 
sez she. “ I shouldn’t wonder if there’d be lots 
o’ folks there, and Sundays you’ll want ter fix 
up sum. You bring it over and we’ll see what 
fixin’ it wants.” “ It don’t need nothin’ done 
ter it,” sez I. “I’ve worn it jest as ’tis fur 
five year, and I ’xpect it’ll do me fur sum time 
yit.” Yis,” sez she, “it might do fur here; 
but ye see stiles has changed sum sence ’twas 
made, and if yer goin’ ’way ye want ter be 
dressed stilish. I’ve got my sewin’ most done, 
and I’ll take it and make it look as good as 
new.” 

It didn’t strike me favor’ble, but Mandy 
has sech a way o’ talkin’ folks over that there 
ain’t no use settin’ up aginst her ; so I took it 
over and she sed if I’d git sum more silk and 
hev an overskirt and sum ruffles and a plee- 
tin’, ’twould look rale nice and stilish. “ I 
don’t feel like goin’ inter sech ’xtravergunce,” 
sez I ; “ I ain’t got so very much money ter 
spend on this tower anyway, and I don’t want 
ter scrimp myself by puttin’ it all inter a 
dress.” “ Oh, ’twon’t cost much ter go,” sez 
she, “jest our fare on the keers, and you can 


2 2 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


’ford ter spend sumthin’ fur the sake o’ hevin’ 
a nice dress.” So I giv in and let her fix it as 
she wanted ter ; and when she’d got it done I 
tried it on and I couldn’t see but what I looked 
’bout as smart as them picters in the fashun 
books. It didn’t look ter me ter be quite the 
thing fur me ter wear, and I knew the Deacon 
would think ’twas downright wicked. 

I wasn’t pertic’ler anxious he should see it, 
and I hed ter carry it home arter dark and 
keep it hid out o’ sight fur fear he’d find out 
’bout it. Wal; there was a sight ter be ’tended 
ter arter that, and it kept Mandy and me run- 
nin’ back and forth most the time ter talk mat- 
ters over. “We sh’ll want ter take lots ter 
eat,” sez she, “fur ’tain’t no ways likely we 
kin git anything over there.” “ How be we 
goin’ ter carry so much?” I axed. “ We kin 
send it with Mr. Baker,” sez she, “ he’s goin’ 
ter take a load, and he’ll put in all we want ter 
send.” “Well,” I sez, “we’ve got most a 
barr’l o’ pork, and I kin take part o’ that and 
three or four bushels o’ taters ; and there’s a 
crock o’ butter I put down last month — 1 kin 
take that and sum eggs an’ tea, an’ sum o’ 
them quince presarves.” “ Wait, Mis. Harts- 
horn,” sez she, “ ye ain’t leavin’ me nothin’ ter 
take and so we set down and made out a 
list o’ what we sh’d want and devided it up 
’tween us. I didn’t do nothin’ else but cook 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 23 


and bake fur as much as four or five days ’fore 
we went. I hed a dubble share, fur I hed ter 
cook up ’nough so’s the Deacon wouldn’t be 
obleeged ter go ter the nabors ter git sumthin’ 
ter eat, ’sides what I was goin’ ter take ’long. 

Notwithstandin’ his boastin' I hedn’t much 
o’ pinyun of his cookin’ powers, and I was 
pritty sertin’ he’d be glad ter git hold o’ sum 
o’ my doughnuts and ’lecshun cake. When 
the last thing was done and everything packed 
up ready ter start airly the next mornin’, I do 
b’lieve I was the tiredest woman on airth. I 
didn’t durst ter say anything, but I jest lay 
and acked all night, and when mornin’ come 
I hedn’t slept hardly a wink, and if it hedn’t 
bin fur sev’ril things I sh’d a felt like givin’ 
up goin’; but I’d started out ter go ter Che- 
tauquy, and I was goin’ if I hed ter be carried 
there. I ’xpect the Deacon tho’t mebbe I 
wouldn’t go, but he’d hanged himself ’fore 
he’d axed me ter stay. I couldn’t help feelin’ 
kind o’ sorry fur him, fur he did look drefful 
sober, and kept goin’ out and cornin’ in as if 
he didn’t know what ter do with himself. I’d 
done up his shirts rale nice and mended his 
socks, and told him where ev’rything was so 
he couldn’t say I’d niglected him, but when 
the time come ter go, and Mr. Baker come 
’long ter take my things an’ me ter the sta- 
shun, I was pritty near wishin’ I’d never heerd 
o’ Chetauquy. 


CHAPTER 11. 


THE START. 

I KNEW ’twouldn’t do ter back out now, 
so I got in and we drove off, leavin’ him 
standin’ there lookin’ as lonesum as our old 
turkey-gobbler did last thanksgivin,’ when 
we’d killed all the rest. We hedn’t gone fur 
’fore I found I’d come ’way in sech a flurry 
that I’d left my band-box. 

Oh, Mr. Baker, stop !” sez I, “ I’ve gone 
and left my bandbox ter home and it’s got 
my best bunnit in it ; I must go right back 
and git it.” He looked provoked ’nough ter 
say sumthin’ bad, but he didn’t say it so I 
could hear it, and we turned ’round and went 
back arter it. The Deacon stood there where 
we left him, and when we we got near ’nough I 
called out to him, “ Deacon, go and git my 
bandbox ; it’s on the table in the settin’ room.” 
He went in and got it, and bro’t it out ter the 
waggin’, and sez he, “Yer alers furgittin’ 
sumthin’.” That nettled me sum, fur I ain't 
a sarcumstance ter him when it comes ter 
furgittin’ things. I waited till we drove on a 
bit and then I spoke back and sez, Don’t 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 25 


furgit ter shave and put on a clean shirt Sun- 
day if I ain’t there ter tell ye to do it.” 

I alers make it a pint ter giv the Deacon 
as good as he sends, fur I learnt tain’t a good 
plan ter let a man think he’s sed sumthin’ ye 
can’t anser. We didn’t hev ter wait long 
arter we got ter the stashun. Mandy nor 
me hedn’t either o’ us ever travel’d much, 
so we let Mr. Baker git our tickets and ’tend 
to things, and we got on the keers as quick as 
we could, fur I was in a great worry fur fear 
sumthin’ ’d happ’n that we sh’d git left. 

When we got started I felt a bit easier, but 
twasn’t long ’fore I was in a fidgit agin, fur 
we kept goin’ faster and faster and switchin’ 
’round them curves so like lightnin’ that 
’twas ’nough ter make a’body’s hair stand 
strait up. I ’xpected ev’ry minit ter go ter 
everlastin’ distrucshun, and I tho’t mebbe 
’twpuld be a jedgment on me if I should, fur 
goin’ off and leavin’ the Deacon that way, 
an’ I sed ter myself if I was ever spared ter 
git home I’d stay there, that was certin. I 
jest set there and held on ter the seat with 
one hand and my bandbox with t’other, fur 
I was bound if anything happ’n’d ter me I 
wasn’t goin’ ter leave my bunnit behind fur 
sumbody else ter git hold of. Arter a little 
I begun ter git more used ter it, and when I 
see the rest o’ ’em didn’t seem to mind it I 


26 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


felt more comfortable ; but I wasn’t any sorry 
when we got ter Mayvill, where we was ter 
git off. I shouldn’t a knowed what on airth 
ter do then if I’d bin ’lone, fur there was two 
boats hitched there, and everybody was *hur- 
ryin’ and scramblin’ ter git onter ’em as if 
there wasn’t room fur only a few. I couldn’t 
think where so many folks was goin’ ter, 
fur sum of ’em was dressed up so fine I 
knew they couldn’t be goin’ ter the camp- 
meetin’. I tho’t likely there was sum big 
doin’s sumwhere, and I made up my mind 
I’d find out ’bout it soon’s I hed a chance. 
Mr. Baker kept hurryin’ us so I was all in a 
fluster when we’d fin’lly maniged ter git 
onter one o’ the boats. That’s jest like a 
man! I never see one yit that wouldn’t 
hurry a woman most ter death when they’re 
goin’ anywhere. I ’xpect it comes nat’ral ter 
’em, fur they’re all alike. When I’d made 
sure that my bandbox and bundles was all 
safe, I begun ter look ’round ter see who 
’peared ter be goin’ ter camp-meetin’, but I 
couldn’t see anybody that looked a bit like 
the sort o’ folks that gin’rally go there, and I 
sed ter myself like as not we’d bin and got on 
the wrong boat. I couldn’t rest a minit then 
till I’d found out, so I walked right up ter a 
man that was standin’ near me and sez, “ Does 
this boat stop ter the camp-meetin’?” He 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 27 


looked at me riither funny and then he sez, 
'‘Sartingly, mam.” “I’m glad ter hear it,” 
sez I, “ fur I was ’feered I was bein’ carried 
off ter a pick-nick or sumthin’. I ’xpect that’s 
where all these folks is goin’ ter.” “ No, 
mam,” sez he, “these folks is all goin’ ter 
Chetauquy.” “Ye don’t say so!” sez I. 

“ Why, yes,” sez he, “why not?” 

“ Why, they’re all laffin’ and jokin’ and car- 
ryin’ on so, J didn’t s’pose they’d want ter go 
ter sech a place.” He laffed, but I didn’t know 
what ’twas fur, and I went back ter where 
our folks was. With Mr. Baker and Miss 
Baker and the baby and Mandy and me and 
the Jones, ’sides sev’ril more from our place, 
it looked as tho’ there wouldn’t be no need 
o’ my gittin’ lonesum, but fur all that I 
couldn’t help feelin’ as if I was an awful long 
ways from home, and it seemed as much as a 
week sence I come ’way. If it hedn’t bin fur 
that, I should ruther injoyed it on the boat, 
fur ’twas butiful ter look off ter the shore, 
on both sides, and see the green grass growin’ 
’most down ter the water, and the hills risin’ 
up behind all kivered with trees, till the top- 
most o’ ’em looked as if the}^ was standin’ 
right up aginst the white clouds. Seemed 
like there’d bin a big holler scooped out and 
that air lake dropped down there, jest a pur- 
pus so’s folks could ride over it and see 


28 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


what a grand picter it made; and there it 
lay, as quiet as a sleepin’ baby, and let them 
big boats go plowin’ over it, as if it knowed 
what ’twas there fur. I rec’lected bearin’ 
the Deacon read one mornin’ that the voice 
of God was ’pon the waters, and seein’ ’em 
so still made me think mebbe they was 
list’nin’ ter hear what he sed. It made me 
feel kind o’ solium like, and I couldn’t bear 
ter hear folks jabberin’ like so many geese. 
I gess they didn’t all feel that way, fur pritty 
soon I sez to Mandy, “ Ain’t it butiful !” 
“ What ?” she axed. Why, off yender,” sez 
I. ‘‘Yes,” sez she, “it looks nice, but hev 
you seen that dress that girl’s got on ? It’s 
perfeckly lovely ! Sech sights and sights o’ 
beads and lace as there is on it !” I looked 
where she sed and see two gals standin’ close 
ter us all rigged up fit ter kill, and talkin’ as 
glib as if their tungs was paid fur runnin’. I 
hedn’t paid any ’tenshun ter what they was 
sayin’ ’fore, but jest then one of ’em sez ter 
the tuther, “ Where be you goin’ ter stay?” 
“ Oh,” sez she, “ we alers stay ter the hotell ; 
’most all the city folks do. It’s ever so nice 
there. The band plays ev’ry night and we 
go out boatin’ or walkin’ and hev splendid 
times. Why, last year we was out on the 
lake, or ridin’ ’round the grounds ’most all 
the time, and we didn’t go ter hardly one o’ 


Nancy Hartshorn at ChatUauqtia. 29 


the meetin’s. ’Twas perfeckly charmin’ ! Oh ! 
Liz,” sez she, “ if there ain’t Mr. Tompkins ! 
Ain’t he too killin’ fur anythin’ ? Let’s walk 
’round that way jest ter see him take off his 
hat ter us.” And off they went a gigglin’. 

What place was it where they hev sech fine 
times ?” sez I ter Mandy. '' I don’t know, but 
I thought 1 heerd ’em say they was goin’ ter 
Chetauquy,” sez she. ’Tain’t very likely,” 
sez I, “ fur there wouldn’t be no sech carry- 
in’s on there as what they was tellin’ ’bout. 
Mebbe ’twas that place they was speakin’ 
of,” sez I, pintin’ ter sumthin’ that looked like 
a settlement o’ sum kind that we was jest 
passin’. '‘Oh, no/’ sez she, "that’s Pint 
Chetauquy.” 

" I never heerd o’ sech a place,” sez 1. 
Then she sez, "That b’longs ter the Baptists. 
They’ve bought all the land on that side, and 
they’re goin’ ter fix it up and make it ever 
so much nicer’n Chetauquy. I s’pose there 
wasn’t room fur ’em all there.” "Wall,” sez 
I, " Fve notised the Methodes and Baptists 
alers seem ter git ’long tergether pritty peac- 
able — providin’ ye let water ’nough run be- 
tween ’em, and I don’t see no reason why 
they can’t reach over now and shake hands 
and trot ’long rale lovin’. It’s awful fort’nit 
this ere lake happ’n’d ter be jest here.” 
Right then Mr. Baker come ’long and sez^ 


30 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtta. 


“ Git yer things tergether, fur here we air ter 
Chetauquy.” “ Where is it?” I axed. Why 
there,” sez he, ‘‘can’t ye see anythin’?” 
“ Land sakes !” sez I, “ ye don’t mean ter say 
all that’s Chetauquyl Why, it’s a nashun 
sight bigger’n I s’posed ’twas. I tho’t our 
camp-meetin’ grounds was big but that beats 
’em all holler. There’s as much as nine or 
ten aker, ain’t there?” “Nine or ten aker!” 
sez he, “ there’s mor’n two hunderd.” “ Good- 
ness, grashus!” I sez, “what on airth air they 
goin’ ter do with it all?” “Oh,” he sez^ 
“ they hev ter hev so much so’s folks won’t 
be crowded. Ye see there’s Methodists and 
Baptists and Presbiterans and Congrega- 
shunists and ’Piscopals and Lutherans and 
’Nited Brethren, and a good many more 
’nominashuns here, and ’tw^ouldn’t do ter 
crowd ’em in too thick ; they’ve all got ter 
hev elbow room, and if this thing keeps on 
growin’ I ’xpect they’ll hev ter hev two hun- 
derd more in a year or two.” “ I should 
think sumbody’d git lost,” sez 1 . “ They do, 

sumtimes, but I gess they alers git found 
agin,” sez he. That set me ter fidgitin’ agin, 
fur I wasn’t ust ter gittin’ ’round where there 
was so much room, and I felt ’most sure Pd 
git lost; but I tho’t Pd be keerful ’bout wan- 
derin’ way from everybody and mebbe I 
wouldn’t. There was lots o’ folks hed come 


Nancy Hartshorn at ChaiUatiqtia, 31 


down ter the landin’ ter meet us, and they 
was wavin’ their handkerchers and actin’ as if 
they was tickled most ter death ’cause we’d 
come. I tho’t ’twas rale kind of ’em seein’ 
we was mostly strangers, but I found out 
arterwards ’twas the way they did ev’ry time 
a boat come in, so’s ter let ’em know they was 
welcum. I didn’t see no place ter land, and 
I kept wonderin’ how sech a big boat was 
ever goin’ ter git up close ’nough ter let us 
git off but it kept tuggin’ and puffin’, and 
pritty soon it bumped up aginst sumthin’, 
Mr. Baker sed was the dock, and stopped, 
and then ev’rybody went ter scrabblin’ and 
pushin’ ter see who sh’d git off fust. There 
wasn’t nothin’ but two planks nailed ter- 
gether fur ’em ter walk over on, but I don’t 
’xpect the strait and narrer way to heaven 
will ever be haf as crowded as them two 
planks was fur the next few minits. I tho’t 
I’d wait a bit ’fore I resked my neck' in that 
way, but they jest carried me right ’long 
with ’em and I couldn’t help myself. I sh’ll 
alers tliink ’twas a mericle that I didn’t fall 
inter the water and git drownded. I hild 
enter my things as well as I could, but the 
top o’ my bandbox was all knocked in, and 
my bag o’ cookies I’d bro’t long in case I 
sh’d git hungry was all spilled, and the 
handle ter my umbril hed got hooked inter 


32 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


a man’s coat pocket, and by the time I got 
that onhitched I was so frustrated I didn’t 
know whether I was Nancy Hartshorn or 
sumbody else. 

’Fore we got off the boat we all ’greed we’d 
keep tergether, but there wasn’t no sech 
thing as keepin’ tergether in that crowd o’ 
folks, and when I looked ’round ter see 
where the rest was I couldn’t see any of 
’em. Then I was in a peck o’ trouble fur 
fear I’d never find ’em agin, but ’twasn’t but 
a few minits ’fore they come ’long, one arter 
nuther, and soon’s we’d got strait’ned up 
sum we started on. I see ’em all goin’ throu’ 
anuther narrer passige way, so I tho’t I’d 
foller the rest ; but jest then a man ketched 
hold of me an’ sez, ‘‘Here, ye can’t go 
throu’ there till you’ve bought a ticket.” “ I 
didn’t know as I hed ter buy a ticket,” sez I. 
“ Of course ye do,” sez he ; “ did ye s’pose 
you was goin’ in free?” “ How much is it?” 
I axed. “ Thirty cents a day,” sez he ; “ but 
if you’re goin’ ter stay long you’d better buy 
a season ticket, and that’s two dollars.” 


CHAPTER III. 


OUR TENT. 

I wasn’t ’xpectin’ ter pay so much, but I see 
the rest was all doin’ it so I didn’t say nothin’, 
but give him the money, and he give me a 
red ticket with two holes punched in it. 
I couldn’t help thinkin’ that it seemed jest 
like goin’ ter a cirkis — hevin’ ter buy a ticket 
’fore ye could go in and see the show. Any 
way, it wasn’t a bit like a camp-meetin’, but 
then I hedn’t seen anything that was, so fur, 
and I was beginnin’ ter think there was sum- 
thin’ out o’ jint sumwhere. I was ’feerd there 
might be sum pick-pocketers ’round and I 
tho’t I’d take keer o’ that ticket, so I stepped 
off ter one side and put it in a pocket in my 
petticoat where I knowed ’twould be safe, 
and then I hurried ’long ter ketch up with 
the rest. There was a rale nice-lookin’ man 
standin’ behind a railin’ that was bilt up there, 
and when I went ter go past him he reached 
out his hand and smiled, as if he was proper 
glad ter see me. I didn’t r’member ever 
seein’ him ’fore, but I wasn’t goin’ ter be so 
oncivel as not ter shake hands with him, so I 


34 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


shook hands and sez, How d’ye do?” rale 
corjeel. 

“ It’s your ticket I want, mam,” sez he. I 
declare, I never was so worked in my life. I 
hedn’t any idee that was what he wanted, and 
what I was ter do I didn’t know, fur I 
couldn’t git ter it there, nur tell him where 
’twas. ^‘Oh, I forgot,” sez I, and then I 
went back agin out o’ sight and got it out 
and started wunce more. I didn’t keep him 
waitin’ long that time, but handed it ter him 
as quick as I could and walked on. 

“ Wait,” sez he, “ye kin hev it agin, I only 
wanted ter see it;” and then I was mad. Ter 
think I’d bin ter all that trouble, when I 
might jest as well told him in the fust place 
that I’d got it! 

“I’d like ter know where you’ve bin?” 
sez Mandy. “ We’ve bin waitin’ ever so 
long fur ye.” “ I stopped ter shake hands 
with a man,” sez I, and that’s all I told her, 
fur I wouldn’t hed her know ’bout it fur all 
the wurld. I looked all ’round, and then I sez 
ter Mr. Baker, “ I don’t see no camp-meetin’. 
Where is it?” “We ain’t got ter it yit,” 
sez he, lafihn’, “ this is the perade ground.* 
“ What’s that?” I sez. “Why, ye see there’s 
a good many come here jist ter see folks and 
have folks see them, and they don’t hev nothin’ 
ter do but ter put on ther good clothes and walk 


Na7icy Hartshorn at Chautatcqua, 35 


’round ter show em. It’s a good place fur that, 
down here ter the landin’, so they call it the 
perade ground.” I tho’t ’twas queer fur sech 
a thing ter be jined on ter a camp-meetin’, 
but I didn’t blame ’em none fur puttin’ it 
there, fur ’twas — as I heerd sum ladies say 
that was goin’ past — “ perfeckly lovely.” 
The ground hed all bin cleared up and ’twas 
as smooth and clean as my kitchen floor, and 
there was seats fixed ev’rywhere, so when 
anybody got tired walkin’ ’round they could 
set down and watch the boats sailin’ on the 
water if they wanted ter. Seemed as tho’ 
there wasn’t a log nur a stump that hedn’t 
bin made inter a seat or kivered up with 
vines and flowers till ye couldn’t tell what 
’twas. Then there was imagys set up ’round 
ter make it look nice (only I should a liked 
’em better if they’d hed more clothes on), and 
it did seem as if ev’rything hed bin done that 
could be ter make it butiful. Then if ye got 
hungry there was peanuts and candy, and sech 
things, that ye could git by payin’ fur ’em (I 
s’posed then they giv ’em ’way free, but T 
found out arterwards ’twasn’t so). There was 
sights of folks walkin’ and settin’ ’round, and 
I must say I never see sech dressin’ in all my 
life. I couldn’t think o’ nothin’ but Vanity 
Fair in Pilgrim’s Progress, but I don’t s’pose 1 
orter lik’ned it to that. I was so took up 


36 Nancy Hartshorn at Chatitauqua. 


with lookin’ ’round I don’t know as I should 
got any further if Mandy hedn’t a took hold 
o’ me and sez, “Fur mercy sakes! Do come 
’long or we shan’t never git ter our tent!” 

“How fur hev we got ter go?” sez I ter 
Mr. Baker when we’d ketched up with him. 
“ Oh, it’s quite a walk yit,” sez he, “ our tent 
is on Miller Av’nu, and that’s ’way up the hill 
yender.” “Wall,” sez I, “if this ain’t the 
queerest place I ever was ter in all my days. 
There’s houses here a good deal nicer’n ourn, 
and streets all laid out jest like a city.” “ Yis,” 
sez he, “ but there ain’t no chance fur any- 
body ter put on any aristockrasy here, fur 
ev’rybody lives on an av’nu.’’ I couldn’t see 
how he knowed where ter go, fur I was so 
mixed up with seein’ things so diff’runt from 
what I ’xpected that I shouldn’t a known 
what in the world ter do if there hedn’t bin 
sumbody ’long ter tell me. But then he’d bin 
there ’fore and sort o’ got the run o’ the 
thing, and so was more ter home. I tho’t we 
must a walked much as a mile ’fore he sed, 
“ Here’s our tent,” and I was proper glad ter 
git ter a stopping-place, fur I was beginnin’ 
ter feel as tho’ a cup o’ tea and sum thin’ ter 
eat would taste ’mazin’ good. When we got 
inter it and I looked ’round ter see what sort 
o’ place ’twas it struck me there wouldn’t be 
any ’commodashuns ter spare, fur the tent 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtia. 37 


wasn’t very big ter begin with, and there was 
a kertin stretcht ’cross so’s ter make ' two 
rooms — one fur Mr. Baker’s folks and one 
fur Mandy and me. I tho’t ’twas rale lucky 
that Mandy was ruther smallish, fur if she’d 
took up as much room as I do there wouldn’t 
a bin any left. The furniter wasn’t nothin’ 
extry — ^jist a bed and a table made o’ boards 
laid ’cross sumthin’ that looked like a saw- 
horse, but I’d bin ter camp-meetin’s ’fore, and 
I didn’t ’spect ev’rything was goin’ ter be as 
convenyunt as ’twas ter home. There was a 
stove outside that we was ter do our cookin’ 
on, and ’twasn’t long ’fore Mr. Baker hed a 
fire goin’ and we hed sum taters bilin’ and the 
tea steepin’. When we’d got our dinner 
ready and was goin’ ter set down I looked 
’round fur a cheer, and sez I, “ Goodness me ! 
what air we goin’ ter set on?” “I’m sure I 
don’t know,” sez she, “ I never tho’t o’ that.” 
“ Wal, I can’t stand up ter eat, that’s certin,” 
sez I ; “ you jist take hold o’ the underpinin’ 
o’ that ere table and we’ll hitch it up ter the 
bed and set on thatr We hed ter be dread- 
ful keerful fur fear o’ upsettin’ ev’rything, fur 
’twasn’t made fur movin’, but we fin’lly man- 
iged it, and it ’peared ter me vittles never 
tasted as good ’fore as they did settin on 
that bed and eatin’ off that rickety table. 
When we’d eat our dinner we went ter on- 


38 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtta, 


packin’ the things we’d sent over and stowin’ 
’em ’way where we could find a bit o’ room. 
“Ain’t ye goin’ ter meetin’ this arternoon?” 
Mandy axed. “ No,” sez I, “ I ain’t goin’ ter 
no meetin’s till I’ve got things settled. I 
want ter git sumthin’ ter sleep on, and sum- 
thin’ ter set on, ’fore I do anything else.” 
“ Let’s axe Mr. Baker ’bout it,” sez she; so I 
went ter him and sez, “ What air we goin’ ter 
do fur a bed and sum cheers?” “ There’s a 
place where ye kin git sum straw ter fill yer 
bed, and I gess ye kin git sum cheers ter the 
intel’igence offis. I’ll ’tend ter gittin’ the 
straw fur ye, and you and Mandy kin go and 
see ’bout the cheers.” 

“What’s the intel’igence offis?” sez I. 

“ It’s the place where ev’rybody goes when 
they want ter git sumthin’, or find out ’bout 
anything.” “ I’m goin’ down ter see ’bout 
gittin’ them trunks and I kin show ye where 
’tis,” sez he ; so I went ’long with him clear 
down most ter the landin’ agin, and he pinted 
it out ter me and sez,' “You go and ax that 
man in there and he’ll tell ye what ter do.” I 
went in where he sed, and found lots o’ folks 
there axin’ all sorts o’ questyuns throu’ a lit- 
tle winder ter a man that was settin’ there 
and ’ritin’. I sh’d a tho’t ’twould a bin con- 
fusin’ ter him ter hev ter anser ’em and ’rite, 
all ter wunst, but he didn’t seem ter mind it. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 39 


I didn’t know as I’d ever git a chance ter ax 
him anything, fur there was so many there 
’fore I was that I hed ter wait till my turn 
come. 

When it did, I put in my head and sez I, 
“Kin I borrer sum cheers here?” He went 
right on ’ritin’, and jest as I was goin’ ter ax 
him agin he looked up and sez, “ I gess ye 
kin rent sum here.” “ I don’t want ter rent 
’em,” sez I, “ I jest want ter borrer sum.” 
“We don’t keep cheers ter lend,” sez he, 
lookin’ as if there was sumthin’ dreadful funny 
’bout it. “What’ll ye charge ter rent ’em, 
then?” I axed. “Twenty cents,” sez he. 
“ Wal, I didn’t ’xpect ter pay fur ’em, but I 
s’pose I’ll hev ter, fur I’ve got ter hev sum- 
thin’ ter set on,” sez I. He acted as if sum- 
thin’ was chokin’ him, and kept lookin’ ’round 
ter sumbody I couldn’t see. Bimeby he sez, 
“ How many d’ye want?” “Two,” sez I, and 
then he took up his pen agin, and went ter 
’ritin’ as if he’d furgot all ’bout it. When I’d 
waited a spell, and he didn’t do nothin’ ’bout it, 
I spoke agin and sez, “When kin I git them 
cheers ?” He waited till he’d ’rote sum more, 
and then he sez, “ Where’ll ye hev ’em sent?” 
“Ter Mr. Baker’s tent,” I told him. “What 
street?” sez he, and I declare he might as well 
axed me ter tell him the name o’ his great- 
grandfather, fur if I’d bin goin’ ter be hung 


40 Nancy Hartshor^i at Chautatiqtia, 


I couldn’t a told what street we was on. The 
only thing I could r’member was that ’twas on 
sum av’nu, and I stood and racked my brains 
tryin’ ter think what ’twas ; but the more I 
tried the more I couldn’t, and what ter do 
I didn’t know. 

“ Why, don’t ye know where Mr. Baker’s 
tent is ?” sez I. “ I’m sorry to say I don’t,” 
sez he, smilin’ a good deal. “ I gess ye’ll hev 
ter go and find out.” There wasn’t nothin’ else 
ter do, so I started back agin ter find out 
where ’twas. If I’d bin a man I know jest 
what I sh’d a done. I was mad ’nough ter do 
it as ’twas, but seein’ I was a member o’ the 
church I don’t s’pose ’twould a bin proper. 
I walked ’long a leetle ways and then I come 
ter a place where there was sev’ril streets all 
startin’ off diff’runt ways, and ter save me I 
couldn’t tell which I orter take. I knew I 
hed ter go up a hill, but I see I’d hev ter do 
that whichever I took, and there wasn’t nothin’ 
ter tell one from anuther. If I’d a knowed 
what ter ax fur I could a axed siimbody, but 
I didn’t know what street I wanted or where 
’twas, and if ever anybody hed a good ’sense 
fur feelin’ lonesum I gess ’twas me. I set down 
on a seat ter think what ter do, and I tho’t 
I’d giv ev’rything I’d got ter see sumbody I 
knowed. ’Twasn’t bein’ lost egsackly, but 
I hed the same feelin’s, I ’xpect, that I sh’d a 


Nancj^ Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 41 


hed if I hed bin. Arter a while there was 
two ladies went past where 1 was, and I 
heerd one o’ ’em say ter the t’other, “ Where 
be you stoppin’?” “On Miller av’nu,” sez 
she, and then it come ter me as quick as 
lig-htnin’ that was the name o’ my street. I 
didn’t spend much time settin’ there then, but 
trotted back, and stickin’ my head inter the 
winder agin, I sez, “ It’s Miller av’nu where 
Mr. Baker’s is.” He looked up and laffed, 
and then he went on ’ritin’. Pritty soon he 
tore off sumthin’ he’d ’rote and giv it ter me. 
“What’s this fur?” I axed. “That’s fur ye 
ter take over ter that buildin’ there,” sez he, 
pintin’ it out ter me; “you jest hand it ter 
them, and they’ll ’tend ter it.” 1 giv him 
twenty cents and went over ter where he sed ; 
but ’fore I got there I tho’t I’d take a look at 
that paper, fur I mistrusted he’d bin makin’ 
out a morgige on them cheers, and meant ter 
git me inter trouble sum way. I couldn’t make 
much out of it, only that they was ter send 
sum cheers up ter Mr. Baker’s, on Miller 
av’nu, so I tho’t I’d resk it, sense ithedn’tgot 
my name on it ; but I ain’t found out ter this 
day what it took him so long fur ter ’rite that 
paper. I went in and giv it ter a likely lookin’ 
young feller that was there, and sez I, “ I 
want ye ter understand I ain’t buyin’ them 
cheers, and I ain’t thinkin’ o’ stealin’ ’em ; I’ve 


42 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


jest hired em fur a spell, and when I git throu’ 
with ’em ye kin hev ’em agin.” “ All right,” 
sez he, “ we’ll send ’em up right off,” and 
then,seein’ I got that bisness settled, I set out 
agin ter go back ter the tent. I didn’t hev no 
trouble in findin’ the way this time, fur when 
I come ter that place where the streets come 
tergether so, I axed a man ter tell me which 
was Miller av’nu, and when I got on that 
it didn’t take me long ter find our tent. 
“Why,” sez Mandy when I come in, “you 
was gone so long we tho’t you’d got lost, and 
I was jest goin’ ter find ye.” “ It took that 
man in the inteligence offiis so long ter make 
out the ’ritin’s fur them cheers,” sez I, “ 1 
tho’t I’d never git it fixed. I hed ter pay 
twenty cents a piece fur the priv’lege o’ set- 
tin’ in ’em while we stay here.” “ And I hed 
ter pay twenty cents a piece fur gittin’ our 
trunks fetched up,” sez she. “ Dear me,” sez 
I, “ I wish I’d left mine ter home. I could 
if it hedn’t bin fur that silk dress, and I 
wouldn’t a bro’t that if I’d s’posed ’twas goin’ 
ter cost so much ter git it here,” “ I gess ye 
won’t be sorry ye bro’t it,” sez she. “ But what 
d’ye s’pose we hed to pay fur gittin’ the straw 
fur our bed?” “Why, we alers giv it ’way 
ter home,” sez I, “ and I don’t s’pose they’d 
charge much fur it here.” “ Only fifty cents,” 
sez she. “ Fifty cents !” sez I. “ My pashunce. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 43 


I wish I’d bro’t sum ’long in my trunk ; I could 
a bro’t most as much as there is. I wonder 
what next ther’ll be ter pay fur.” “ Wal, 
there ain’t no way but ter put up with it/’ 
sez she. “ I’ve come here ter hev a good time 
and I’m goin’ ter, if it takes the last cent I’ve 
got.” “ I never was ter a camp-meetin’ ’fore 
where I hed ter pay fur things so,” I sez. I 
don’t more’n haf b’leve ’tis a camp-meetin’, 
anyhow.” “ I don’t know as anybody sed 
’twas,” sez she sort o’ spiteful ; “ they call it a 
Sunday School ’Sembly, and I ’xpect that’s 
diff’runt from a camp-meetin’.” I was goin’ ter 
say that as fur as I’d seen ’twasn’t any improv- 
munt on ’em, but jest then Marier Jones come 
in. I tho’t I’d run in and see ye a minit,” sez 
she, “ so ye wouldn’t feel lonesum.” (She’d 
bin there sev’ril days, so she felt more ter 
home.) “You missed a good deal by not bein’ 
here ter the openin’; they hed speeches and 
fireworks and other nice things, and ’twas 
jest splendid. Hev ye bin ter any o’ the meet- 
in’s yit ? ” 

“ No, we wanted ter git settled furst,” sez 
Mandy. “You must go this evenin’,” sez she, 
“there’s goin’ ter be a lecter in the am pie- 
theater, and you must go airly so’s ter git good 
seats.” “Ye don’t mean ter say they’ve got 
a theater here !” sez I, and I gess I looked 
drefful horryfied, fur she couldn’t anser fur a 


44 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


minit or two fur laffin’. Then she sez, “ Oh, 
no, it’s the ampletheater — the buildin’ where 
they hold all the big meetin’s.” ‘‘ Why don’t 
they call it a meetin’-house then?” sez 1. 

’Cause ’tain’t one,” sez she, “ it’s a great deal 
nicer’n any meetin’-house. You see when they 
was lookin’ ’round fur a place ter hold ther 
meetin’s, they found a big holler with the 
ground risin’ sudd’n ’round it, so’s it made it 
like a big washbowl. They sed that was jest 
what they wanted, so they hed it all cleared 
up, and seats put ’round three sides, one ’bove 
’nuther, so that the front ones was down in 
the holler, and the back ones was up on top 
the hill. Then they put a pulpit down in 
front, and built a place fur the ones who was 
ter do the singin’ up back o’ that, and put a 
roof over the hull, and it makes it the grand- 
est place ye ever see. But, then. Dr. Vinson 
knows how ter do things nice,” sez she. “ I 
think he’s perfeckly splendid. It’s jest won- 
derful ter see how he keeps ev’rything movin’ 
’long so smooth ’thout any hitch anywhere. 
I don’t know what in the world ev’rybody’d 
do if anything should happ’n ter him,” and 
she looked proper sober fur thinkin’ ’bout it. 
“ Is he the man that’s bossin’ this thing?” I 
axed her. “ Yes,” sez she, “ he’s got it all on 
his hands. If it hedn’t bin fur him I don’t 
s’pose there’d bin any Chetauquy.” “ ’Pears' 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 45 


ter me it s a good deal fur one man ter ’tend 
ter,” sez I. “ Oh, o’ course he has sumbody 
ter help him, but they only do what he tells 
’em ter ; he has ter ’range ev’rything, and it’s 
jest a mericle that he's ’live yit, with so much 
’sponsibility restin’ on him.” “ Don’t he git 
any pay fur it?” sez I. “No,” sez she. “ He 
won’t take nothin’. He jest gives up his time, 
and works so hard, and spends lots o’ money, 
so’s ter make it pleasant fur other folks. I 
don’t b’lieve there’s ’nuther sech a man livin’.” 
“ No,” sez I, “ I don’t b’lieve there is, neither. 
I want ter git a look at him. Will he be ter 
the meetin’ this evenin’ ?” “ Yes,” sez she, “ he 
leads all the meetin’s ; but I’ve staid so long 
now. I’ll hev ter hurry or I’ll be late. I’ll call 
’round fur ye when I go,” she sez, as she was 
goin’ ’way. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE “ AMPLETHEATER” MEETING. 

I WAS feelin’ pritty much used up and wasn’t 
kariatin’ on goin’ anywhere that evenin’, but 
Mandy wanted ter go and I tho’t mebbe I’d 
better go ’long so’s ter keep her comp’ny. 
Marier come fur us ’fore we was ready, and 
she wouldn’t hardly giv us time ter git our 
things on, she kept hurryin’ us so. “ I don’t 
see no sense in goin’ so airly,” sez I, tryin’ ter 
tie my bunnit strings by peekin’ over Mandy ’s 
head inter the lookin’-glass. “ You’ll see sense 
’nough in it when ye git there,” sez she; and 
sure ’nough we wasn’t a bit too airly, fur folks 
was goin’ in droves, and ’fore we got there I 
begun ter worry fur fear we wouldn’t git in. 
I’d sort o’ got an idee ’bout the ampletheater 
from what Marier’d sed, but when we come 
up ter it, I declare, fur a minit it jest took 
’way my breath. “ Goodness grashus !” sez I. 
“ I should think there was room fur more’n a 
mdllyun folks!” ‘‘Oh, no,” sez she, “I b’leve 
it only holds ’bout seven thousand.” “Wal, 
seven thousand’s more’n I ever see tergether 
ter wunst,” sez I. “ Ain’t there no danger o’ 
sumthin’ givin’ way and ev’rybody bein’ 


Nancy Hartshorn at ChatUauqua, 47 

pitched down there in front?” “ I gess not,” 
sez she, “ fur there ain’t nothin’ ter giv ’way.” 
Arter we’d got seats there was time ter set 
and watch folks, and ’twas ’most as good as a 
show ter see ’em come pourin’ in, as if there 
wasn’t but one good seat there, and ev’rybody 
wanted ter git it. It was lit up so ye could 
see from one side clear ter tuther ’most as 
plain as day, and I tho’t while I was lookin’ 
’em over that ’twas ’bout as good a lookin’ 
crowd o’ folks as I ever see. ’T wasn’t long 
’fore ’bout ev’ry seat was full, and then they 
kept cornin’ with cheers and goin’ down in 
front, by the pulpit. The iles was so steep 
anybody hed ter go pritty fast when they 
got started, and it did look ’mazin’ funny ter 
see a dreadful dignyfied lookin’ individerel 
start out with his cheer ter git there. He’d 
start mighty slow and proper, but he’d keep 
goin’ faster and faster, till ’fore he got ter the 
bottom his head ’d be bobbin’ up and down 
like a jumpin’ jack. I come pritty near laffin’ 
two or three times, but I didn’t, fur I tho’t 
’twouldn’t look well. 

“ Where’s Dr. Vinson?” sez I, bime by, ter 
Mandy, fur I was feelin’ rale curus ter see 
him There was sev’ril men settin’ in the 
pulpit, but I didn’t see nobody that I tho’t 
was him. Just then one o’ them got up and 
come ’long out in front, and as soon’s folks 


48 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


see him the talkin’ and noise all stopped, and 
’twas as still as a Quaker-meetin’. “ That’s 
him,” sez she. “Ye don’t say so!” sez I, fur 
I was dreadful disappinted. I s’posed he’d 
hev on sum reg’mentals and a sord, like a gin- 
eral, but he was drest jest like other folks, 
and, ’xceptin’ that he wasn’t so old nur so 
gray, I couldn’t see that he was one bit better 
lookin’ than the Deacon is when he gets his 
Sunday clothes on. I ruther liked his looks, 
tho’, and I couldn’t help thinkin’ it looked a 
heap more sensible fur him not ter be wearin’ 
reg’mentals. I was in hopes he was goin’ ter 
preach, but he jest giv’ out sum notises and 
then he told what there was ter be the next 
day, and I declare if ’twasn’t meetin’s all the 
time from 8 o’clock in the mornin’ till 8 o’clock 
in the evenin’. 

“Sakes alive!” sez I, “hev we got ter go 
ter all them?” ‘‘No,” sez Marier, “ye ain’t 
got ter go ter any of ’em, ’nless ye want ter. 
There don’t hardly anybody go ter all of ’em, 
’thout it’s the C. L. S. C.’s.” “ Who’s that ?” sez 
I. “ Oh, I can’t tell you now,” sez she, “you’ll 
find out ’fore ye’ve bin herejong.” I couldn’t 
help wonderin’ who she meant, and while I 
was thinkin’ I heerd Dr. Vinson giv’ out that 
the C. L. S. C.’s was ter meet sumwhere fur 
sumthin’ the next mornin’, and then I won- 
der’d mor’n ever. I wouldn’t ax her agin’ but 


Nancy Hartsho^^n at Chautauqua. 49 


I tho’t mebbe ’twas a comp’ny o’ soljers he 
was trainin’ fur the army, fur his voice sound- 
ed as if he was ust ter commandin’ sumbody. 
When he’d giv’ out all the notises he sed the 
quire would sing a piece, and then there was 
as much as two or three hunderd folks that 
.was settin’ in the gall’ry behind the pulpit 
stood up and sung sumthin’. I couldn’t tell 
what ’twas, but I never hed heerd sech nice 
singin’ ’fore in my life. It sounded more like 
a camp-meetin’ than anything else I’d heerd, 
only I didn’t r’member ever bearin’ the tune 
’fore. When they was throu’ singin’ he inter- 
dused perfesser sumbody that was ter lecter. 
I don’t rec’lect what his name was, nur v/hat 
he lectered ’bout, fur there was so much ter 
see that it took up my mind so I didn’t pay 
no ’tenshun ter what was sed. I alers feel a 
good deal more like watchin’ folks ’n I do like 
bearin’ a lecter, and there was chance ’nough 
fur it there. There was lots o’ nice lookin’ 
men, and them I took ter be preachers ; and 
sum that wasn’t so nice lookin’ I took to be 
editers, fur I ain’t never seen an editer yit 
that was much hansum. I s’pose they git so 
ust ter screwin’ ther faces up when they’re 
’ritin’ that they sort o’ grow so, and then 
most o’ ’em hev a way o’ squintin’ at folks as 
if they was spec’latin’ whether they can’t make 
sumthin’ out o’ ’em. 


50 Nancy Hartshorn at Chatitauqtia. 


One thing struck me as ruther su’prisin’, 
and that was the number o’ weakly young 
wimmin there was there. I ’spose likely they 
was there fur ther health, but I tho’t they 
must want ter hear a lecter pritty bad ter go 
when they couldn’t set up ’thout leanin’ outer 
sumbody. They all hed a young man ’long 
ter take keer of ’em, and they was rale good 
ter ’em and held ’em up all throu’ the lecter. 
I notised they didn’t any o’ ’em ’pear ter pay 
much ’tenshun ter what was sed, but prob’ble 
’twas ’cause they felt so bad. If I’d hed my 
smellin’ salts ’long T sh’d a offer’d it ter one 
of ’em that set right in front o’ me, fur she 
couldn’t hardly hold her head up. It would 
keep loppin’ over towards the feller’s shoulder 
that was with her. I felt consid’r’ble sorry 
fur him, fur she was a pritty good size fur a 
sickly person, and he was nothin’ but skin an’ 
bone, an’ looked as tho’ she’d better be holdin’ 
him up. I watched ’em fur awhile, and then 
I nudged Mandy and sez I, I’m ’feerd sum- 
thin’s the matter with that young woman. 
Hedn’t we better try and do sumthin’ fur 
her?” “I don’t think she’s sufferin’ much,” 
sez she, and then she and Marier went ter 
laffin’, which I didn’t think looked very well. 
I didn’t hear ’nough o’ that lecter ter pay fur 
goin’, but I wasn’t sorry I went, fur I’d seen 
a good deal. When ’twas throu’ they hed 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 51 


sum more singin’, and then Dr. Vinson sed 
there was goin’ ter be sumthin’ else; but 
Mandj and me was so tired we tho’t we 
wouldn’t stay any longer, and so Marier went 
with us, fur we never could found the way 
’lone. “ Well, how did ye like it?” sez she, 
when we got out. 

“ It’s diff’runt from any place I ever was ter 
’fore,” sez I, “ and I can’t say yet whether I 
like it or not. I’m thinkin’ more now ’bout 
gittin’ sum place ter rest’n anything else, fur 
’pears ter me I never was so wore out when 
I’d bin cleanin’ house all day.” “Weil,” sez 
she, “ you must try and git rested up ter night, 
fur you’ll want ter go all day termorrer. 
Shell you go to the airly lecter at 8 o’clock?” 
“No,” sez I, “ye don’t ketch me goin’ ter no 
lecter at 8 o’clock. I kin hear all I want ter 
’thout goin’ ’fore I git my breakfust eat. I 
ain’t kal’latin’ on gittin’ up very airly, seein’ 
I ain’t ’bleeged ter.” “ I don’t think you’ll 
be likely ter sleep very late,” sez she, laffin’. 
“Why not?” sez I. “Oh,” sez she, “folks 
ain’t ’lowed to sleep arter six o’clock here.” 
“ Wal,”sez I, “if that ain’t a pritty how ter 
do ! I don’t know’s anybody’s goin’ ter keep 
me from sleepin’ as long as I want ter, if I’m 
a mind ter.” “ You’ll see,” sez she, and then, 
as we’d got ter our tent, she sed good-night 
and went on. “What did she mean?” I sez 


52 Na 7 tcy Hartshorn at ChaiUauqtia. 


ter Mandy. “ I don’t know, and I don’t 
keer,” sez she; “ I’m goin’ ter git all the sleep 
I kin, anyhow.” 

It did seem as if we’d never git ter bed. I 
wasn’t ust ter sleepin’ where I couldn’t lock 
the doors, and I felt dreadful narvous ’bout 
it, fur I didn’t know who might be prowlin’ 
’round. I worked a good while fixin’ the 
kertin so nobody could git in, and then I set 
the table up aginst it, and put the two cheers 
on top o’ that. “ There,” sez I, “ I gess we’re 
as safe as anybody km be here.” “ I don’t 
know,” sez she, lookin’ ’round, “ I shouldn’t 
wonder if a robber could crawl in under the 
tent. I’m sure they could if they was a mind 
ter.” “ Sure ’nough,” sez I, and then we set 
down on the bed ter think what we’d bet- 
ter do. “Do ye s’pose they’d do such a 
thing?” I sez. “There ain’t no tellin’ what 
anybody’ll do,” sez she ; “ it’s awful risky, any 
way.” There didn’t seem to be nothin’ we 
could do, so we sed ’twasn’t no use settin’ up. 

“We kin call to Mr. Baker if anything 
should happ’n,” sez I, but still we tho’t ’twas 
best ter leave the light burnin’, so ’twould be 
ready in case we should want it sudd’n. The 
bed wasn’t very comfert’ble, and it took a 
good deal o’ shiftin’ and turnin’ ter find an easy 
place, and then, jest as we’d got settl’d down, 
there was a bell begun ringin’ sumwhere as if 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 53 


sumthin’ had broke loose. “Goodness me, 
what’s that fur?” sez I, startin’ up ag’in. “ Must 
be there’s a fire, and we’ll all be burnt up !” 
and I popped out o’ bed ter go and git 
my black silk dress, fur I didn’t want that 
burnt up arter all I’d spent on it. Mr. Baker 
heerd me and sez he, “ That ain’t fur fire. It’s 
nothin’ but the night bells ter tell ev’rybody 
ter go ter bed.” “ Wal, I never !” sez I, “ I 
wonder if they s’pose there don’t nobody 
know ’nough ter go ter bed ’thout bein’ told. 
I must say it’s a queer way ter tell ’em, ter 
ring a bell so hard ’twould scar ’em all out if 
they was there already and so we crawled 
back agin, fur Mandy hed got up too, when 
I did. In a few minits Mrs Baker’s baby 
begun ter cry, and it did beat all how that 
young un did yell ! It took ’em both gittin’ 
up an’ down fur a good haf hour fur pary- 
gorick and things ’fore he got quiet, and then 
he only stopped ’cause he was wore out. By 
that time I’d got waked up so there wasn’t no 
sech thing as goin’ ter sleep. When it had 
got still agin I lay there thinkin’ ’bout things, 
and it kept cornin’ ter me how lonesurn the 
Deacon must be there ter home, with nobody 
ter speak ter, or git his meals fur him ; and 
the more I tho’t ’bout it the more I tho’t 
mebbe I hedn’t done jest right in cornin’ off 
and leavin’ him so. 


54 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


The Deacon has hisfailin’s, as I’ve r’marked 
’fore ; but, takin’ him all tergether, I reckon 
he’s as good as men’ll av’rig, and I don’t 
s’pose any man’d like it much ter be left in 
that way. 

My conshunce got ter prickin’ me pritty 
hard, and I made up my mind I wouldn’t stay 
any longer’n I could help if I could git ’way 
from Mandy. Arter that I felt better, and 
fin’lly made out ter git ter sleep. I was jest 
dreamin’ that the Deacon hed bin took with 
a crik in his back and couldn’t stir hand or 
foot, when I was woke up by the most un- 
airthly noise I ever heerd in all my life. It 
wasn’t what could be called a groan, but ’twas 
sumthin’ kin ter it, and I lay there quakin’ in 
ev’ry jint, thinkin’ the jedgmentday hed come 
sure. I didn’t speak ter Mandy, fur my heart 
was thumpin’ so I couldn’t make a sound ter 
save me. Pritty soon I heerd it agin, and 
then 1 knew for sartin ’twas Gabril’s horn, fur 
’twas clear ter me that nothin’ else could ever 
made sech a noise as that. I didn’t wait ter 
hear it agin, but got out o’ bed and onter my 
knees quicker’n I ever did anything ’fore, and 
sez I, “ Oh, Lord, I’m an awful sinner and I 
ain’t fit ter live, but I ain’t ready to go ter 
the jedgment neither, and if you’ll let me stay 
here a spell longer I’ll turn over a new leaf 
and stop scoldin’ the Deacon, sure’s my name 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 55 


is Nancy Hartshorn.” Then come that awful 
noise agin ! By that time Mandy was settin’ 
up in bed, her teeth chatterin’ as if shehed the 
ager. “ Oh, Mis Hartshorn !” sez she, “ sum- 
body’s bein’ killed ! What shall we do ?” 

’Fore 1 could say anything we heerd Mrs. 
Baker say, “ Mr. Baker ! Mr. Baker !” 
'‘What d’ye want?” sez he. “Ye mustn’t 
snore so,” sez she. “ I ain’t bin snorin’,” sez 
he. “ Yis ye hev,” she sez, “ and I gess ye’ve 
woke up Mis Hartshorn and Mandy.” “ ’Tain’t 
no sech thing,” he sez. “ Likely ye snored 
yerself and tho’t ’twas me.” She let him hev 
it his way and didn’t argy the pint with him, 
but if I’d bin in her place I wouldn’t a giv’ 
up so if I’d talked till mornin’. I was so mad 
at that consarned critter I could a choked 
him ! Ter think o’ what a time we’d hed, an’ 
all on his ’count. I was tremblin’ so yit I 
could hardly git back ter bed, but when I did 
I jest r’lieved my mind ’bout him ter Mandy, 
pritty plain. “ I don’t s’pose he’s ter blame,” 
sez she. “ O’ course he’s ter blame,” sez I. 
“ What bisness has he got ter come here if 
he can’t sleep peace’ble ’thou’t ’sturbin’ the 
hull naberhood ? One thing’s sartin, if I 
could git hold o’ that nose o’ his ’twouldn’t 
ever be wuth much fur snorin’ agin.” Wal, 
by that time ’twas most mornin’. I didn’t 
’xpect ter sleep any more arter gittin’ wro’t 


56 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


up so, but ’bout four o’clock I dropped off 
agin. It seemed ter me I bed n’t bin sleepin’ 
but a few minits ’fore them bells went ter 
ringin’, but I was bound I wouldn’t be scairt 
out o’ bed this time fur nothin’ or nobody. 
“What’s them bells ringin’ fur now?” I 
called out ter Mr. Baker. “ That’s ter wake 
folks up,” sez he. “ How long does it take ?” 
I axed. “ Oh, not very long,” he sez. So I 
lay still, thinkin’ I’d be even with ’em that 
time and take anuther nap when they stopped; 
but soon’s they’d got throu’ sum boys begun 
hollerin’ “ mornin’ papers, mornin’ papers,” 
and fur awhile ye’d a tho’t a hul menageery 
hed broke loose. “ Distracskshun take it ! 
What’s the matter now ?” sez I. Mr. Baker 
begun ter laff, but I was so vexed I didn’t 
feel much like lafhn’. “ That’s the news- 
boys,” sez.he; “they start out at six o’clock 
sellin’ the ’Sembly Her’ld.” “ I’d like ter 
know if they s’pose anybody wants ter read 
ther ’Sembly Her’ld ’fore they git up. I’m 
goin’ ter hev sum more sleep if it takes me 
till noon ter git it.” “Well,” sez Mandy, 
“ I’ve got ter git up, fur I told Marier I’d go 
ter the airly lecter with her, but I don’t feel 
a bit like goin’.” So she got up and went ter 
bustlin’ ’round, and I lay there wonderin’ 
whether I told the Deacon how ter fry sum 
taters if he should want any, and wishin’ I 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 57 


was there ter do it fur him. Pritty soon Mr. 
Baker called out, ‘‘ Fm goin’ arter sum milk, 
and if ye want any ye’d better go ’long with 
me.” “ I gess you’d better go,” sez Mandy, 
*‘and ril be gittin’ breakfust.” I finally con- 
cluded that Fd git up. 


CHAPTER V. 


GOING TO THE “STORE.” 

Pm ’feerd I didn’t do it in a very Chris- 
tian spirit, fur I felt as tho’ I hedn’t bin used 
very well, takin’ it all tergether. I didn’t 
hurry myself, fur I tho’t I’d jest lives bother 
him sum as not. I heerd him sputterin’ 
ter Mis Baker ’bout “ a woman everlastin’ly 
keepin’ a man waitin’,” and I wanted ter tell 
him if a woman didn’t make as much noise as 
a man did in gittin’ throu’ the wurld they 
gin’rally manige ter git consider’ble done. 
“Where be ye goin’ ter git milk?” sez I, 
when we got started. “ I shouldn’t s’pose 
anybody’d keep a cow here.” “ There don’t, 
as I know of,” sez he, “but there’s a man 
pritty near here that keeps three hunderd.” 
“ I don’t b’lieve a word of it,” sez I. “ Why 
not?” sez he. “’Cause he’d never git time 
ter do the milkin’ in the wurld,” sez I. “ ’Tain’t 
likely one man does it all,” sez he ; “ but it 
takes the milk from all them cows ter keep 
this thing runnin’. That’s where they keep 
it,” — as we come ter the place where they 
was sellin’ it out. There was lots o’ folks 
there with pails and pitchers ter git sum, and 


Naitcy Hartshorn at C hautauqua. 59 


sum of ’em looked as tho’ thej^’d dressed in 
sech a hurry they didn’t hev time ter finish. 
“ That’s the meat-market,” he sez, pintin’ ter 
the next buildin’, “ and over there’s the groc’ry 
and the bak’ry.” “Ye don’t mean ter say 
they’ve got a groc’ry store here!” “Of 
course they hev,” sez he, “ and a good one 
too. There ain’t nothin’ in the way o’ pro- 
vishuns that ye can’t git there, or ter the 
bak’ry. 

“Wal, I declare,” sez I, “if I’d a knowed 
I could git ’em here, I never sh’d a fussed 
ter bring sech a sight o’ stuff. I kal’late any- 
body’ll hev ter pay consid’able fur ’em, tho’.” 
“Wal,” sez he, “ I reckon they’ll make out 
ter git a livin’ at it.” We didn’t hev ter 
buy nothin’ but the milk so we didn’t go no- 
further. “ D’ye s’pose ye kin find the way 
’lone next time ?” sez Mr. Baker, when we 
got back. “ Of course I kin,” sez I ; “if ye 
think I don’t know ’nough ter go as fur as 
that ’lone, yer mistak’n.” Mandy’d got the 
breakfust all ready, and when we’d eat I told 
her she’d better go ’long ter the lecter and I’d 
do up the dishes. Arter I’d got ’em done I 
tho’t I’d go in and talk with Mis Baker a bit, 
but the baby was screamin’ so there wasn’t 
no comfert in stayin’. “ I don’t know what’s 
the matter with him,” sez she ; “ he cries all 
the time and I can’t git a chance ter do noth- 


6o Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


in’ but hold him.” ‘‘Where’s Mr. Baker?” 
sez I ; “ why don’t ye make him take keer o’ 
him till ye git the work done up ?” “ Oh, he 

wanted ter go ter the lecter,” sez she. “ Jest 
so ! I’m thinkin’ it’s a good thing you didn’t 
want ter go, seein’ sumbody’d got ter stay ter 
home.” “ I don’t ’xpect ter go ter many o’ 
the lecters,” sez she, “ but I’m glad Mr. Baker 
kin go, fur he ’njoys ’em so. He sez there’s a 
great deal ter be learnt from ’em.” “ I gess 

there’s sum things he might learn ’thout goin’ 
ter a lecter,” sez I. “Sum men think it’s 
’nough fur ’em ter know ev’rything, and 
’tain’t no matter whether ther wives ever hev 
a chance or not. If I’d been Paul’s wife he’d 
never heerd the last of it fur ’ritin’ all that stuff 
’bout if a woman wanted ter know anything 
she must ask her husband ter home. It’s jest 
raised the mischief with the men ever sense, 
an’ most of ’em nowadays’d die holdin’ what 
they know ’fore they’d tell ther wives any- 
thing !” And with that I marched off, leavin’ 
her lookin’ as tho’ she tho’t I was an awful 
wicked woman ; but I couldn’t help speakin’ 
so, fur if there’s anything that riles me it’s 
ter see a woman lettin’ herself be ’mposed 
’pon by sum big selfish skeesicks of a man, and 
takin’ it all as meek as Moses. I alers feel 
like ’xpressin’ my ’pinyun when I see it, I 
don’t keer who ’tis. I didn’t know jest what 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 6i 


ter do with myself while I was waitin’ fur 
Mandy ter come back, till it fin’lly struck me 
’twas ’bout time I was gittin’ ’quainted with 
sum o’ my nabers, seein’ I was goin’ ter stay 
there awhile. There was a tent standin’ close 
by, and Fd seen a woman goin’ in and out 
that I tho’t looked kinder sober, and I sed 
ter myself like as not she was home-sick and 
Fd better go in and cheer her up a bit; so I 
walked ’long an’ went in ’thout knockin’ so’s 
ter look more naberly. She hedn’t quite got 
her work done yit, and looked up ruther 
s’prised ter see me. 

“ Good mornin’,” sez I; I tho’t Fd run in 
and git ’quainted, seein’ we was likely ter be 
nabers fur a spell.” She bowed, an’ sez, 
“Won’t ye take a seat?” “Don’t keer if I 
do, thank ye,” sez L “ Bin here long?” “’Bout 
a week,” sez she. “Ter be sure,” sez 1. 
“ Where be ye from ?” “ We come from Ohio,” 
she sez. “Ye don’t say so! Any partic’lar 
place in Ohio?” I axed. “ From Akrun,” sez 
she. “ Never heerd of it,” sez I, “ but Fm jest 
as glad ter see ye fur all that. How many 
of ye is there ?” “ Eight of us in all.” “ Of 

all things I” I sez. “ Got ’nough ter eat ? 
’Cause if ye ain’t we bro’t ’long a lot o’ pork 
an’ taters an’ ginger cakes an’ sech things, 
and ye kin hev sum jest as well as not.” 
“ Thank ye, we hev plenty ter eat,” sez she. 


62 Nancy Hartshorn at C hautatiqua. 


I tho’t she didn’t act very sosh’ble, and it 
looked as tho’ I’d hev ter do most the talkin’. 
I didn’t know what ter say next, but 1 see I’d 
got ter say sumthin’ so I sez, “ Bin ter any o’ 
the meetin’s?” “ Yes, nearly all of them,” sez 
she. “How d’ye like ’em?” “Very well,” 
she sez. 

“ Is yer husband a preacher?” then I axed. 
“ No, he is not,” sez she. “ Ever goin’ ter be ?” 
I sez agin. “ No, I don’t think he ever ’xpects 
ter be a preacher,” sez she. “ What I axed 
fur,” sez I, “ was ’cause ye come so fur I tho’t 
mebbe he was tryin’ ter pick up sumthin’ ter 
preach ’bout. I hear ’em say the lecters is 
wonderful ’mprovin’ ter them that kin under- 
stand ’em.” She didn’t say nothin’ ter that, 
and then I sez, “ Be ye goin’ ter stay till it’s 
out?” “ I think we shall,” sez she, and then 
she waited fur me ter ax sumthin’ more, but I 
didn’t, ’cause I couldn’t think o’ nothin’ more 
ter ax. I tho’t I’d done my part towards git- 
tin’ ’quainted, and if she didn’t feel like bein’ 
naberly I wasn’t to blame. 

I waited a spell, but she didn’t git off her 
stilts any, so I sed I gessed I’d better be goin’, 
an’ biddin’ her “ Good mornin’ ” agin I took 
myself off. Now I s’pose she tho’t ’twas 
proper fur her ter put on airs sum jest ’cause 
she come from Ohio, but I could a told her 
there was sum pritty smart folks that wasn’t 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 63 

born or raised there. I never did hev much 
of an ’pinyun o’ Ohio, any way. Ye can’t say 
it’s East, or West, or North, or South, an’ it 
don’t seem ter b’long nowhere. I s’pose 
there’s lots o’ folks wouldn’t ever knowed 
there was sech a place if they hedn’t gone 
and trotted out Guv’nur Hays fur pres’dunt ; 
an’ jest ’cause he was ’lected, they seem ter 
think they’ve got ter furnish all the pres’dunts. 
I tho’t I shouldn’t trouble myself to call on 
anybody else that mornin’, so I set down ter 
watch the folks that was passin’, and I found 
’twas rale entertainin’ ter see how diffrunt 
folks do act. Some of ’em walked ’long slow, 
turnin’ and lookin’ every which way, as if 
they was there ter see everything there was 
ter see, and was ’feerd they’d miss sumthing ; 
and then sum went ’long lookin’ down on the 
ground, like as if they didn’t keer fur nothin’ 
or nobody in the wurld ’xcept what they was 
thinkin’ ’bout — but I notised they was mostly 
men that did that. Wimmin don’t often git so 
carried ’way with what’s in ther heads that 
they can’t see nothin’ that’s goin’ on ’round 
’em. I s’pose sum folks would say ’twas ’cause 
there wasn’t ’nough in ’em ter carry ’em very 
fur, but that don’t toiler. More likely it’s 
’cause ther heads kin hold more ’thout bein’ 
full than most men’s. I couldn’t think where 
ev’rybody come from, or what they was there 


64 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


fur, but I see they all ’peared ter be injoyin’ 
'emselves fust-rate, jedgin’ from ther looks. I 
was so took up seein’ ’em, that I sh’d furgot 
all ’bout goin’ ter the meetin’ if Mandy an’ 
Marier hedn’t come back fur me. I tho’t 
there wouldn’t be many there, fur it seemed as 
tho’ ev’rybody was walkin’ ’round ; but when 
we got ter the ampletheater ’twas most full, 
and we hed a good deal o’ trouble in findin’ 
seats. There was sum kind of a meetin’ goin’ 
on, but I couldn’t make out what ’twas. 
When I axed Marier she sez, “ It’s sum meetin’ 
of the G. L. S. C.’s, I gess; they hev sum- 
thin’ goin’ on all the time.” “ I’d like ter 
know who the C. L. S. C.’s be, anyway,” I sez ; 
but jest then she sez ter Mandy, “ Oh, my ! I 
promised Charley I’d come down ter the 
landin’ this mornin’, an’ if I don’t he’ll be aw- 
ful disappinted. Won’t you go with me? It’s 
a sight nicer’n ’tis ter stay here an’ hear a dry 
old lecter.” I see Mandy wanted ter go, but 
she looked at me as if she didn’t know what 
ter do. “ Hed ye jest lives I’d go?” sez she. 
“Ye kin go if ye want ter,” sez I, ruther short, 
fur I didn’t think it was very perlite in ’em 
not ter ax me ter go. “ Well,” sez she, “ I gess 
I’ll go. We’ll be back by the time the lec- 
ter’s out an’ wait fur ye outside and so off 
they went. 

I’d heerd Marier tell so much ’bout the 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 65 


lecters bein' so nice that I tho’t she must a bin 
drefful 'feerd o' disappintin’ that air Charley 
(whoever he was), ter go an' leave one of 'em. 
I was rale put out at ’em fur leavin’ me in that 
way. There wasn’t anybody near me that I’d 
ever seen 'fore, an’ I felt like a cat in a strange 
garrit. I tho’t mebbe I’d better go back ter 
the tent, fur I’d feel more ter home there; 
an’ then I made up my mind I’d stay, an’ 
p’haps I’d hear sumthin’ 'bout them C.L.S.C.’s, 
fur I was gittin’ mighty curus ter find out 
who they was. 'Twas lucky I did, fur jest then 
I heerd two men talkin’ that was settin’ behind 
me, an’ one of ’em sez, ‘‘ That C.L.S.C. is gittin’ 
ter be a big thing, isn’t it ?” “ I don’t know 

much 'bout it,” sez the other ; “ what is it, any- 
how ?” “ Wal, I don’t know much 'bout it my- 
self,” sez the furst one, “ only it’s sumthin’ Doc- 
ter Vinson’s got up. I heerd ’em tellin’ there 
was nineteen thousun of ’em a’ready.” “ My 
grashus !” sez the other one, be they all here ?” 

I gess not,” sez he ; “ but most of ’em is, an’ 
’cordin’ ter 'counts they hev a pritty hard time 
of it. I hear they ain’t 'lowed ter eat but one 
meal a day, or to sleep only jest so many 
hour, an’ they hev ter carry a book with ’em 
everywhere they go, so’s ter be studyin’ all the 
time. Ye kin tell one of ’em as fur as kin 
see ’em, fur they’re a drefful poor, haf-starved 
lookin’ set. I gess they ain’t 'lowed ter laff, 


66 Nancy Hartshoi^n at Chautauqua, 


either, fur I don’t s’pose ye could git one of 
’em to if they was ter be paid fur it.” “ Is it 
a secrit sosiety ?” sez the other man. “ I gess 
’tis.” “ Do they take in wimmin ?” he axed. 
“ Oh, yis,” sez the other; “ I kal’late there’s 
more wimmin than men in it.” “Then it 
can’t be a secrit sosiety,” sez he. “ That’s so,” 
sez the furst one, “ I didn’t think o’ that. W al, 
I don’t know what ’tis, but if it keeps on 
growin’ there ain’t no tellin’ where it’ll stop.’' 
It was time fur the lecter ter begin then, so 
they stopped talkin’; but I was in sech a state o’ 
mind I didn’t keer fur no lecter — all I could 
think of was them poor C. L. S. C.’s. I tho’t 
’twas shameful ter treat ’em so, and in thinkin’ 
’bout it I got ter feelin’ so hard at Docter 
Vinson that when he come out in front I 
didn’t want ter lis’en ter him. Ter think I’d 
took sech a likin’ ter him, an’ now he’d turned 
out ter be sech a man ! I tho’t he didn’t look 
ter be so hard-hearted, but then looks is 
drefful deceivin’, an’ I alers was sort o’ dis- 
trustful o’ them meek-lookin’ men. There’s no 
tellin’ what they’ll do. I was so ’feerd he’d 
git hold o’ me an’ make me jine ’em I didn’t 
know what ter do, an’ I couldn’t help wishin’ 
I’d stayed ter home, as Td orter, instid o’ 
goin’ off on a wild-goose chase the way Thed. 
If it hedn’t bin fur Mandy I sh’d a wanted 
ter start back on the furst boat ; but I knowed 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 67 


it wouldn’t do, so I sed ter myself I’d keep 
watch, an’ if I see him cornin’ ’round me I’d 
jest make tracks fur home. 

Then I went ter contrivin’ how I could 
manige ter giv sum o’ them C. L. S. C.’s a good 
square meal unbeknownst ter him. I never 
could stand it ter see anybody sufl’rin’ fur 
the want o’ food, and I tho’t ’twas rale Provi- 
denshul that we’d bro’t ’long so much, so’s I 
could toiler the Scripter command ter feed 
the hungry. 

While I was thinkin’ ’bout it I notised 
’twas wonderful still all of a sudd’n, an’ when 
I looked down ter the pulpit ter see what 
’twas fur there stood some black folks all 
drest up as fine as anybody, lookin’ as if they 
wasn’t a bit .’feerd o’ sech a sight o’ folks as 
there was there. Goodness me ! who be 
them?” sez I ter a woman that was settin’ 
next ter me. That’s the Jubylee singers,” 
sez she; didn’t you ever hear of ’em?” 
“ Can’t say as I ever did,” sez I. Then they 
begun ter sing, an’ I must say I never heerd 
sech singin’. Seemed as tho’ they only hed 
ter open ther mouths and out it come. ’Twas 
jest like a big orgin, only ye could hear 
ev’ry word as plain as if they was talkin’. I 
couldn’t bear ter hev ’em stop, and when they 
did ev’rybody begun to cheer ’em, an’ kept at 
it till they hed ter come back and sing sum 


68 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


more, and then they wasn’t satisfied. I was 
so carried ’way with it that I tho’t I’d be 
willin’ ter be born black if I could sing like 
they did. “ Do them singers sing ter all the 
meetin’s?” sez I ter the woman I spoke ter 
’fore. “ Not all of ’em,” sez she, ’twould 
keep ’em singin’ all the time if they did.” “ Do 
ye s’pose they’re C. L. S. C.’s ? ”I axed. “ I gess 
not,” sez she. “Why?” “’Cause I shouldn’t 
think they’d feel like singin’ if they was,” sez 
I. She laffed, but the lecter hed begun then, 
so she didn’t say any more. I didn’t pay 
’nough ’tenshun ter it ter know what ’twas 
’bout, fer my head was too full ter hold any 
more. When ’twas out, I found Mandy an’ 
Marier waitin’ fur me, and they was wonder- 
ful glib with what a fine time they’d hed. 
“ Wal,” sez I, “ it’s my ’pinyun ye’d better 
staid ter the lecter instid o’ galvantin’ off in 
that way. I wouldn’t a missed it fur a good 
deal, fur I’ve learnt sum things I didn’t know 
’fore.” That wasn’t nuthin’ but the truth, but 
I wouldn’t tell ’em what ’twas I’d larnt, arter 
they’d acted so. “Wal,” sez Marier, “I’m 
goin’ ter hear that Ram Shunder Bozy this 
arternoon, if it’s the last thing I ever do.” 
“Goin’ ter hear who?” sez I, stoppin’ short 
ter look at her. “ Ram Shunder sumthin’,” 
she sez, lafhn’. “ I can’t pernounce his name, 
but he’s splendid. Didn’t you hear it giv’ 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 69 

out this mornin'?” “No,” sez I, “I didn’t 
hear no sech outlandish name as that. Who 
is he?” “ Oh, he’s sumbody that’s come here 
from sum place — I gess it’s Afriky — ter see 
what’s bein’ done here.” “ Ye don’t mean ter 
say he’s come all the way from Afriky ter 
come ter Chetauquy?” sez I. “I s’pose so,” 
she sez. “ Is he one o’ them C. L. S. C.’s?” sez 
I. “ I don’t know, but I shouldn’t wonder if 
he was,” sez she. 

“Poor critter!” sez I. 

“ What fur?” she axed. I hedn’t meant ter 
tell her what I’d heerd, but it popped out ’fore 
I tho’t, so I told what the men hed sed. She 
laffed as if ’twas drefful funny, but I didn’t 
see nothin’ ter laff at, an’ I sed so. “ It’s a 
pritty good joke on ’em,” sez she, “but I gess 
’tain’t quite so bad as that. Them I’ve seen 
don’t ’pear ter be starvin’.” “ Wal,” sez I, 
“ I reckon them men knowed more’n you do 
’bout it, and I b’lieve what they sed.” “You 
kin b’lieve what you’re a mind ter, it won’t 
hurt anybody,” sez she. I didn’t call it very 
r’spectful fur her ter speak so, consid’rin’ I 
was older’n she was, but she felt a good deal 
set up ’cause she’d bin there ’fore, an’ I s’pose 
she tho’t she knew ev’rything there was ter 
know. I didn’t change my mind, fur I sed 
ter myself ’twasn’t very likely anybody’d say 
things like that if ’twasn’t so, an’ I’d giv’ ’em 


70 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


sumthin’ to eat jest the same when I hed a 
chance. There was goin’ ter be sev’ril meet-, 
in’s that arternoon, but we sed we’d ruther 
go an’ hear that Ram Shunder what’s-his- 
name ’n anybody else. (I gess names was 
skeerce when he was born, and they hed ter 
make one ’speshelly fur him, fur I don’t ’xpect 
anybody ever heerd anything like it ’fore.) 


CHAPTER VI. 


RAM SHUNDER BOZY’S LECTURE. 

There was a place there they called the Hall 
o’ Filosofy, and Marier sed the lecter was ter 
be there, ’cause he was ter tell ’em sumthin’ 
’bout filosofy. I didn’t know much what that 
was, but I tho’t mebbe I’d find out if I went. 
When we got there ’twas so full we couldn’t 
find seats. ’Twas plain they couldn’t near all 
git in, so Docter Vinson told ’em it would hev 
ter be held in the orditorum I think he called 
it, ’cause there was more room there. Then 
he told ’em they’d better form a percesshun 
an’ march down ter it quiet an’ orderly 
like, an’ he an’ Ram — that other man — would 
lead off. ’Twas a good thing he told ’em 
how ter go, fur they didn’t wait till he’d got 
throu’ ’fore they started, and of all the run- 
nin’ an’ scamperin’ anybody ever did see that 
beat it! There was sech a crowd, an’ they 
was all pushin’ an’ hurryin’ so, that ’twasn’t 
a minit ’fore I lost Mandy an’ Marier, but I 
went ’long with the rest of ’em, fur I see 
there wasn’t no other way ter do. If I hedn’t 
bin in sech a hurry myself I sh’d a stopped an’ 
laffed ter see ’em. Sum of ’em cut ’cross lots, 


72 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


jumpin’ over logs and ev’rything else that was 
in the way, and them that hed ther camp cheers 
jest tucked ’em under ther arms an’ run as fast 
as anybody. I couldn’t think o’ nothin’ but a 
flock o’ sheep jumpin’ over a stun wall; then, 
ter put on the finishin’ touch, when they’d all 
got there an’ got set down ’long come Doc- 
ter Vinson and — that air man, walkin’ as slow 
an’ solium as if they s’posed they was leadin’ 
all that crowd ! 

Ev’rybody felt like laffin’, an’ so they did ; 
but I ain’t any idee them two men knowed 
what they was laffin’ at. I’d bin so ankshus 
ter git a seat that I took the furst one I come 
ter an’ set down next ter a woman that was 
all drest up fit ter kill, with lots o’ nice things 
on. When I set down by her she pulled 
’way her dress as if she tho’t I’d spile it, an> 
then she sez ter the woman that was with her^ 
“ I never was in sech a place ’fore in my life ! 
I’ve bin pushed an’ run aginst till there ain’t 
nothin’ left o’ me. I sh’d think these folks is 
all from the country, jedgin’ from ther man. 
ners. I’m sure I shouldn’t hev ever come 
here if I’d knowed what a place ’twas.” 
She ’peared ter be awful mortyfyed at bein’ 
mixed up with sech an’ actin’ set, an’ I felt 
rale sorry for her, fur anybody could see she’d 
bin ust ter bein’ treated more r’spectful. I 
wanted ter say sumthin’ simpathizin’ ter her, 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 73 


but I didn’t know jest how ter do it so she 
wouldn’t think I was from the country an’ 
didn’t know what manners was. Pritty soon 
I nudged her, an’ sez I, 

Be you a Methodis’ ?” 

She looked at me as if she tho’t I wasn’t 
fit ter speak ter, an’ then she sez, “No, I am 
not. I b’long ter the ’Piscopal church.” 

“ Dear me !” sez I, “then I don’t ’xpect this 
is any place fur ye. These Methodis’ beat all 
creashun fur pushin’. They’re alers pushin’ 
sum thin’, and they don’t never pay no ’ten- 
shun ter nice clothes and dimonds an’ sech 
things. It’s my ’pinyun ye’d better git home 
as quick as ye kin, or ye won’t hev any good 
clothes left.” Sumhow I tho’t she didn’t seem 
ter like what I sed from the look she giv’ me, 
an’ bimeby they got up and went off, an’ I 
shouldn’t wonder if she went home on the 
next boat, fur I didn’t see her any more. 
Mebbe she’d felt better if she’d staid, fur Mr. 
Boze (the man that was ter lecter) hed on a 
white gown jest like a ’Piscopal parson, an’ if 
it hedn’t bin that he was black I should a 
tho’t he was one by the condesendin’ way he 
hed; but then I don’t ’xpect there’s any ’Pisco- 
pals where he come from. I was rale dis- 
appinted in his lecter, fur I tho’t he was 
goin’ ter tell sumthin’ ’bout what they did 
an’ how they maniged ter git ’long where he 


74 N^dncy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


lived, but he went off talkin’ ’bout sumthin’ I 
couldn’t understand, an’ I gess nobody else 
did. I believe he called it Hinder filosofy, 
and I tried ter git the drift o’ what ’twas, but 
I couldn’t make nothin’ out of it, and I tho’t 
if that was the way they preached there I 
didn’t wonder they was all heath’n. 

I heerd a man that was settin’ near me say 
he was well edicated, but it struck me ’twas 
’bout as bad ter be so much edicated as ter 
git out o’ sight o’ ev’rybody else as ’twas not 
ter be edicated at all. Mebbe there was them 
that could foller him, but I’m free ter say I 
couldn’t, an’ so I giv’ up tryin’ ter. I tho’t 
he’d never git ter the end, an’ when he did 
’twasn’t ’cause he’d got throu’, only there 
wasn’t time ter say it all, an’ I was glad there 
wasn’t. When he stopped an’ hed set down 
Docter Vinson sed sumthin’ I didn’t hear, an’ 
as quick as lightnin’ ev’rybody hed out ther 
handkerchers wavin’ at him. I didn’t know 
what ’twas fur, but I got mine an’ shook 
it as hard as any of ’em, so’s ter make it look 
as if I did. I found out arterwards ’twas ther 
way o’ payin’ ther ’spects ter anybody that 
was more’n common, instid o’ hodrain’ fur 
’em, an’ they called it the Chetauquy saloot, 
so nobody could do so only when they was 
ter Chetauquy. When he’d thanked ’em fur 
bein’ so kind ter him, an’ sed “Good-by” (fur 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 75 


he wasn’t goin’ ter be there any more), they 
let out the meetin’. I tho’t likely Mandy an’ 
Marier’d be lookin’ fur me, an’ I’d walk 
’round a spell ter get rested arter settin’ still 
so long, an’ mebbe I’d run ’cross ’em. I 
didn’t know where ter go at furst, but fin’lly 
I set out fur the p’rade ground, as Mr. Baker 
called it, seein’ ’twas close by. 

When I got there I declare I tho’t there 
was a good many there huntin’ fur sumbody 
that looked sumwhat like me from the way 
they acted, fur I never took sech a starin’ at in 
my life. It made me feel rale oncomfort’ble fur 
awhile, fur I tho’t must be there was sum- 
thin’ pecoolyer ’bout my looks ter ’tract so 
much ’tenshun ; but ’twasn’t long ’fore I see 
they sarved ev’rybody else jest so, an’ I’d 
hev ter put up with it whether I liked it or 
not. If it hed bin anywhere else I sh’d a 
sed ’twasn’t very good manners, but I was 
beginnin’ ter think anybody could do ’bout 
as pleased ’em there ’thout makin’ any 
’polygies, an’ ’twasn’t ’xpected anybody was 
goin’ ter take ’cepshuns. Wal, I couldn’t see 
anybody I knowed there, an’ it made one 
feel drefful lonesum. I wanted ter git ’way 
sumwhere where there wasn’t so many folks, 
so I started ter walk ’long by the lake, think- 
in’ I’d find sum out o’ the way place where I 
could set down 'all by myself an’ think. I 


76 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


hedn’t gone fur ’fore I come ter the queerist 
lookin’ place, I do b’lieve, that ever was. I 
don’t like ter try tell ’bout it, fur I ain’t 
never seen anything that was anyways like 
it, an’ I don’t ’xpect I’ll make out very well. 
It took me a good while ter make up my 
mind what ’twas, but I fin’lly took it to be the 
childern’s playground, fur there was lots o’ 
what looked like little mud-houses, and little 
ponds that I tho’t was fur ’em ter sail boats 
in, an’ nice shells an’ things fur ’em ter play 
with (an’ there was a railin’ built ’round it all 
so they needn’t git lost). At furst I didn’t know 
but ’twas where Dr. Vinson kept the C. L. S. 
C.’s, fur I see sum of ’em settin’ on the ground 
(leastways I s’posed they was C. L. S. C.’s, 
fur they hed ther books ’long an’ was readin’), 
but from what I’d heerd ’bout ther bein’ so 
many of ’em I knowed ’t wasn’t big ’nough 
ter hold ’em all, an’ ’sides it didn’t look rea- 
s’nble ter s’pose they’d feel much like playin’, 
even if they’d bin ’lowed ter, so I giv’ up 
that idee, an’ I sed ’twas likely he’d gone ah’ 
hed a place fixed up fur the childern ter play 
in while ther folks went ter the meetin’s, an’ 
fur all I’d got so set aginst him, I hed ter 
’low ’twas a good deal ter his credit ter be so 
thoughtful of ’em. While I stood lookin’ at 
it I notised a man walkin’ ’round there who 
’peared ter be wonderful curus ’bout it. He’d 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 77 


go from one o’ them mud houses ter anuther, 
an’ stand an’ look at ’em as sober as if he was 
lookin’ inter a grave. I tho’t mebbe he felt 
bad ’cause he couldn’t be a boy agin, sense 
childern hed come ter be o’ sum ’count. When 
he come ’long to’ards where I was I felt as 
tho’ 1 wanted ter say sumthin’ ter him, so 
I sez, They didn’t pay so much ’tenshun 
ter childern when you an’ I was young.” 
^‘Mam?” sez he, lookin’ at me sort o’ strange. 
Thinkin’ he might be hard o’ bearin’ I spoke 
louder an’ sez, “ I say they didn’t think ’nough 
o’ childern when you an’ I was young ter 
spend so much time in fixin’ up a place fur 
’em ter play in.” 

“ Madum,” sez he, as grave as a preacher, 
this is not a playground, it’s the holy land.” 
'‘The what?” sez 1, backin’ off a leetle, fur 
I tho’t sartin he’d lost his senses, and was 
wanderin’ in his mind. 

“ The holy land,” sez he ; “that part o’ the 
wurld where Christ lived.” 

“ Of all things !” sez I, an’ I wasn’t sure then 
whether he was crazy or pokin’ fun at me ; 
but I wouldn’t let him think I didn’t b’lieve 
him, so I sez, “ How on airth did it come 
here?” “I didn’t mean ’twas the holy land 
itself,” sez he, “ it’s only intended as a repre- 
sentashun of it.” “ I can’t see nothin’ that 
looks like a holy land,” sez I, “ an’ I sort o’ 


78 Nancy Hartshorn at Chatitauqua, 


reckon yer one o’ them fellers I’ve heer’n tell 
of that gits so much lamin’ it makes ’em 
crazy. I s’pose ye’ve bin readin’ so much 
’bout it that ye’ve kinder got an’ idee in yer 
hed that it looks jest like this ere place, so ye 
ain’t so much ter blame ; but ye shouldn’t 
orter try ter make other folks think so.” 

“Yer mistak’n,” sez he, smilin’, “ I’m not 
at all crazy, an’ I’m not tellin’ ye any ontruths 
’bout it. Ye see they wanted ter giv’ folks 
sum idee o’ how it looked, and how the diff- 
runt places was sitovated, so they hed a man 
that hed bin there and seen it all come here 
an’ fix up this bit o’ ground ter look as 
much like it as he could ; so there ain’t no 
doubt but what it’s a good picter of it. There 
is the river Jord’n,” sez he, “ where Christ 
was babtized,” pintin’ ter a leetle crik ’bout a 
foot wide, “ an’ there is the city o’ Jerus’lum,” 
pintin’ agin ter what I’d called a mud house. 
“ Anybody kin git a pritty good idee o’ the 
city by studyin’ that.” “Then I shan’t study 
it much, fur if it looked like that I don’t wont 
ter know nothin’ more ’bout it,” sez I; “an’ 
as fur that bein’ the river Jord’n, if it wasn’t 
no bigger’n that I want ter know how they 
ever maniged ter babtize sech a sight o’ 
folks there,” an’ then I notised what I hedn’t 
seen ’fore, that there was little boards set 
up ’round with the names o’ places, we read 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 79 


’bout in Scripter printed on ’em, an’ that made 
me think what he was tellin’ was so. I hedn’t 
b’lieved nothin’ of it till then, but there wasn’t 
no sech thing as disb’lievin’ it when there 
was Nazaruth and Canun and all the land o’ 
Judee right ’fore me, and I hed ter giv’ in that 
there wasn’t no mistake ’bout it. 

Somehow I couldn’t git it inter my head 
that ’twas anyways like it, an’ I wonder’d if 
them that ust ter live there would know what 
’twas meant fur if they could see it. Bime 
by I sez, “ Wal, I’m ’mazin’ thankful I didn’t 
live in them days if folks hed ter live in sech 
cramped up places as them air.” “ O’ course 
this ain’t nothin’ ter it in size,” sez he ; “ they 
hed ter make it a good deal smaller, ’cause 
there wasn’t room ; but anybody can tell sum- 
thin’ ’bout it, an’ it makes it easier ter study 
’bout it — hevin' this ter look at.” “ Sure 
’nough,” sez I ; “ I never should a thought o’ 
that. I s’pose that’s the new fashuned way of 
teachin’ ’bout things, an’ I gess likely it’s as 
good as any. I shouldn’t be s’prised if the 
next thing they’d git up a repersentashun o’ 
Heav’n here, only I kal’late ’twould hev ter 
be mostly gess work, fur I don’t ’xpect they 
could git anybody that’s bin there ter come 
back an’ tell ’em ’bout it.” 

He looked at me rale r’provin’, but I couldn’t 
see as I’d sed anything very bad. I gess he 


8o Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


thought he wouldn’t waste any more breath 
on sech a heathun, fur he turned an’ went off 
an’ set down by the river Jord’n ter medytate. 
Mebbe he was x’pectin’ ter see John the Bab- 
tist come up out o’ the water, an’ I tho’t 
’twouldn’t a bin no more’n proper if they’d 
hcd sumbody dressed up in furskin with a 
leather gurdle on ter repersent him. ’Feared 
as tho’ they’d got everything there but the 
folks, an’ feelin’ as I did then I don’t know 
as I should tho’t strange of it if I’d seen ’em 
cornin’ up out o’ the ground an’ go walkin’ 
’round there. I didn’t feel like stayin’ there 
much longer, fur there wasn’t no comfort in 
thinkin’ that sum o’ them fellers that hed bin 
dead eighteen hunderd year might pop up 
any minit. I don’t doubt but what they was 
sum of ’em rale nice folks, and under sum sar- 
cumstances I sh’d a liked ter git ’quainted 
with ’em ; but as ’twas, I wasn’t pertic’lar ank- 
shus ’bout it, so I shook the dust off my feet, 
’cordin’ ter Scripter, by walkin’ off as fast as 
ever I could. I was willin’ anybody else sh’d 
git all the satisfackshun they could a lookin’ 
at it, but I tho’t I’d be keerful ’bout gittin’ 
inter that spooky place agin. I hedn’t gone fur 
’fore I come ’cross Mandy an’ Marier. They 
pertended they’d bin all ’round lookin’ fur 
me, but I didn’t b’lieve much of it, fur I tho’t 
they could a found me if they’d wanted ter 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 8i 


very bad. I sed Fd bin walkin’ ’round, but I 
didn’t tell ’em where, ’cause I knowed they’d 
go ter axin’ questyuns, an’ Fd bin so sort o’ 
shocked that I wasn’t feelin’ like talkin’ ’bout 
it. Marier wanted ter go up by the big 
hotell where the band was playin’, but I was 
tired an’ ruther out o’ sorts, an’ I told her I 
wanted ter git back ter our tent, where 
things wasn’t so ’xcitin’, so I could hev a leetle 
quiet. Ter tell the truth ’bout it, I hedn’t 
injoyed the arternoon very well, an’ if any- 
body’d axed me jest then how I liked Che- 
tauquy I sh’d a told ’em ’twasn’t what ’twas 
cracked up ter be, ter my thinkin’; but I got 
ter feelin’ better arter awhile, fur we went 
a diffrunt way from what Fd bin ’fore, an’ I 
see sum sech comfert’ble lookin’ places ter 
live in that it made me ’most want ter settle 
there. It was su’prisin’ ter see how much 
pains sum of ’em hed bin ter, ter fix things up 
so’s ter make it look nice an’ invitin’ ter 
strangers. I tho’t ’twas sing’ler there should 
be so many school - houses there (I called 
’em school-houses, but Marier’d call ’em a 
hall, or a temple, or sum other big name, an’ 
sed they was where folks could go an’ larn 
things ; but seein’ that’s what a school-house 
is fur I can’t see no sense in callin’ ’em any- 
thing else). ’Feared ter me I never see sech 
a place fur teachin’ things as ’twas. Any- 


82 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


body’d s’pose they tho’t the folks that come 
there didn’t know nothin’, but if they didn’t 
larn sumthin’ ’fore they went ’way ’twas 
plain there’d be nobody ter blame but ’em- 
selves. But they hed a ’mazin’ queer way o’ 
teachin’ it 

When we was goin’ past one sch — build- 
in’ we heerd sumbody yellin’ an’ groanin’ as 
if they was bein’ ’most killed. It didn’t take 
me long ter make up my mind what sort o’ 
place ’twas, fur ’twas jest sech a noise as the 
Deacon alers makes when he has a tooth 
pulled. I declare !” sez I, I never sh’d 
a tho’t o’ findin’ a dentis’ shop here.” That 
ain’t a dentis’ shop,” sez Marier, lafhn’ fit 
ter kill herself. “ What is it, then. I’d like 
ter know,” sez I. “Wy, it’s where they 
teach the Sole fa,” sez she. The what?” sez 
I. “ Oh, sumthin’ ’bout singin’,” sez she ; ‘‘ I 
don’t know what ’tis.” “ Wal, I never!” sez 
I ; “if they call that singin’ I’d like ter teach 
’em what singin’ is.” I was fur goin’ in ter 
see what they was doin’, but she sed mebbe 
they didn’t want anybody lis’nin’ ter ’em, an’ 
I tho’t myself if I sh’d make sech a noise as 
that an’ call it singin’ I sh’d be ’shamed of it 
an’ wouldn’t want nobody ter hear it ; so we 
didn’t go in, but I’ve bin sorry sence that I 
didn’t. I tho’t I shouldn’t stir out agin that 
evenin’ when we got ter our tent, but Mandy 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 83 


an’ Marier didn’t seem ter be noways tired, 
an’ was ready ter go agin soon’s they’d eat 
ther supper, so I told ’em they could go 
’thout me an’ I’d lay down an’ rest a bit ; but, 
dear me ! there wasn’t no sech thing as restin’, 
fur there was so much trampin’ back an’ forth, 
an’ laffin’, an’ talkin’, that ’fore I knew it I was 
up a peekin’ out ter see what was goin’ on. 
’T wasn’t fur ter where the ampletheter was, 
an’ I could hear Docter whoever he was blow- 
in’ his trumpit as if he ’xpected ter make 
ev’rybody hear him that was on the grounds, 
I don’t know what his name was, but I no- 
tised they was mostly all docters, so I 
shouldn’t wonder if he was one. Sumhow it 
didn’t strike me as bein’ jest right ter let them 
docters do all the talkin’ an’ make preachers 
of the gospil keep still. I don’t dout they 
know consider’ble ’bout sum things, but it’s my 
’pinyun there’s lots o’ preachers could tell 
’em sum things they never dreamt of, fur all 
ther quackin’; but I must ’low sum of ’em 
talked ’nough like preachers ter be took fur 
’em. Wal, as I was say in’, this one was tellin* 
what he knew ’bout matters, an’ I tho’t must 
be it was pritty import’nt fur him ter make 
sech a noise ’bout it, an’ I might as well go 
an’ hear what he hed ter say ; so I stepped 
out an’ walked ’long that way. There was 
so many walkin’ ’round 1 didn’t look fur 


84 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


ter find many there, but when I come ter the 
ampletheter I found ’twas full as it could be, 
an’ there was ever so many standin’ on the 
outside that couldn’t git seats. They kep 
talkin’ an’ movin’ ’bout so I couldn’t only 
ketch a word wunce’n awhile, an’ that wasn’t 
’nough ter tell me what he was talkin’ ’bout. 
Likely if I could a heerd the beginnin’ or the 
end I sh’d a found out, but jumpin’ right 
inter the middle of it, so ter speak, I couldn’t 
git hold of anything. As ’twas, there wasn’t 
no use in stayin’, an’ so pritty soon I started 
ter go back. On my way I met sev’ril of 
them sickly young wimmin I menshuned, 
with ther brothers — or the fellers that hedter 
go ’long ter take keer of ’em — walkin’ as slow 
as if they didn’t feel able ter walk at all, an’ 
I tho’t ’twas rale perzumpshus fur ’em ter be 
out in the evenin’ air. Ter be sure, I couldn’t 
blame ’em none fur wantin’ ter be out, fur 
’twas so warm, an’ there was so much ter see, 
that ’t would a bin hard stayin’ in. I wasn’t 
in no hurry ter go in myself, so I walked 
’long slow, thinkin’ how queer ’twas I sh’d be 
in sech a place as that instid o’ bein’ ter home 
with the Deacon ; then I got ter thinkin’ how 
lonesum he must be ’thout me, an’ I begun 
ter feel a good deal homesick agin, but I sed 
ter myself I’d come there ter ’njoy it, an’ as fur 
makin’ myself miser’ble on his ’count I jest 


Nancy Hartshor 7 i at Chautauqua, 85 

sh’dn’t do it. Then I took ter watchin’ the 
picters on the tents that the folks inside of 
’em made by ther shadders, an’ I got ter 
laffin’ so that I forgot ’bout bein’ homesick. 
I tho’t if sum of ’em could come out an’ see 
how they looked they’d be pritty keerful 
’bout gittin’ ’fore the light, fur it didn’t ’fleet 
much ter ther good looks. There was sum 
what’d be called strikin’ picters, an’ if there’d 
bin anybody there ter take ’em he could a 
put ’em in an almanick an’ made his fortin’ 
by it. I was so took up with lookin’ at ’em 
that I didn’t mind which way I was goin’, 
tell pritty soon I notised that the tents wasn’t 
so near tergether, an’ then, when I stopped 
ter look ’round, I couldn’t tell where I was. 
I knowed I’d orter turned off onter Miller 
Av’nu sumwhere, but I’d gone past it, and 
where ’twas I couldn’t a told if ’twas ter 
'save me. I didn’t feel like axin’ anybody fur 
fear they’d git a bad ’pinyun of me fur wan- 
derin’ off ’lone so arter dark, so I turned 
’round and walked back the way I come, 
thinkin’ mebbe I’d find out ’thout axin’. 

It was gittin’ late an’ there wasn’t as many 
out as there had bin, an’ I was ’most scairt ter 
death, fur I didn’t know what might happin 
ter me. I tho’t like as not there was rob- 
bers or sumthin’ hidin’ ’round there, an’ I 
’xpected every minit I’d be ’tackted. Dime 


86 Nancy Hartshorn at Chatitauqua, 


by I heerd a man comin’.behind me, an’ sez I 
ter myself, That’s one of ’em, sure’s I’m liv- 
in’,” an’ then if ever I run in my life I gess 
’tvvas that time. I shouldn’t wonder if he tho’t 
’twasn’t no use tryin’ ter ketch me, fur I kal’- 



“ that’s one of ’em, sure’s i’m livin’ 


late he never see a woman git over as much 
ground in a few minits ’fore. 

When I see he wasn’t arter me I stopped 
ter take my breath an’ pick up a leetle, fur I 
was all of a tremble. Jest then I heerd a bell 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 87 


ringin’ that I knowed wasn’t a great ways 
from our tent, an’ follerin’ that ’twasn’t long 
’fore I found myself back where I started 
from, and I reckon there never was anybody 
more thankful ter git inter a safe place than 
I was. Mandy hed got back ’fore I did, an’ 
when I went in she sez, 

“I’d like ter know where you’ve bin?” 
“ Takin’ a leetle walk,” sez I. “ I tho’t you 
was that tired you couldn’t go any where,” 
sez she. “ Mebbe that’s the way I took ter 
git rested,” sez I. She didn’t say no more, 
an’ then we went ter work fixin’ things, so 
we’d be safe fur the night. When we’d got 
it done, I put my head inter Mis Baker’s 
part an’ sez I, “ Mis Baker, if ye’ll jest hold 
on ter Mr. Baker’s nose till I git ter sleep 
I’ll be ’bleeged ter ye.” “ Why,” sez she, 
“did he keep ye ’wake last night?” “I 
should ruther think he did,” sez I; “ I alers 
tho’t the Deacon made a drefful racket ’bout 
sleepin’, but, sakes alive ! if he’d made sech a 
noise as Mr. Baker does I shouldn’t a lived 
with him all' this while.” She laffed, an’ sed 
she’d try an’ keep him still, and I actu’lly 
b’lieve she lay ’wake all night ter shake that 
man, fur ev’ry time he started off on a rousin’ 
snore he’d break down ’fore he got thro’ as if 
he’d lost his breath, an’ I gess she shook it out 
o’ him. I rested a good deal better, an’ got 


88 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


up feelin’ more chipper’n I did the mornin’ 
’fore. I told Mandy I’d go arter the milk 
while she got breakfast, seein’ I knowed the 
way better’n she did. I didn’t hev no trouble 
in findin’ the place fur all I hed ter do was 
ter go ’long with the rest. There was so 
many waitin’ ter git ther pails an’ pitchers 
full that ’twas sum time ’fore I could git mine, 
an’ then I tho’t I’d go ’round by the bakery an’ 
see what they’d got there. I found as many 
there as there was ter the milk store, an’ it 
kept three or four men bizzy dealin’ out bread 
an’ biskits an’ cakes, an’ what else they hed. 
Ev’rybody wanted ter git sarved furst, an’ 
sum of ’em ’peared ter be in sech a hurry that 
they’d forgot ther manners, an’ scolded right 
sharp at bein’ kept waitin’, as tho’ they’d 
never hed ter wait ’fore in ther lives. I 
knowed we didn’t stand in need o’ nothin’, 
but I see sum nice lookin’ cakes that I tho’t 
would taste good an’ I tho’t I’d git sum, so 
soon’s I got a chance I stepped up an’ sez, 

“How d’ye sell them cakes?” 

“ Sixty cents a dozen,” sez he. 

I’d got out my pocket-book ter buy ’em, 
but when he sed that I put it back agin pritty 
quick. “ Charge anything fur lookin’ at 
’em?” sez I, “cause if ye don’t, ye’d better, 
fur I kal’late ye don’t git a chance ter make any 
money only wunce a year, an’ I’d ’vise ye ter 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 89 


make all ye kin then/’ He didn’t say nothin’, 
but them that was standin’ there laffed, an’ I 
walked off thinkin’ I’d got the start o’ him 
that time. I was so set up thinkin’ ’bout it 
that 1 didn’t notis which way I was goin’, an’ 
arter I’d walked fur ’nough ter git home I 
begun ter wonder why I didn’t git there, an’ 
then I see I’d gone an’ got lost agin ! If any- 
body’d bin lis’nin’ I ’xpect they’d bin shocked 
at sumthin’ I sed jest then, but as long’s there 
didn’t nobody hear me I ain’t goin’ ter tell 
what ’twas; but it was so aggravatin’ ter think 
I couldn’t stir out ’ithout losin’ the way that 
I couldn’t help s’pressin’ my feelin’s ’bout it. 
I tho’t I wouldn’t waste no time huntin’ fur 
it, so I stepped up ter a pleasant lookin’ wo- 
man that was settin’ in the door of a tent an’ 
sez I, 

Kin ye tell me where I kin find Miller 
Av’nu ?” Wy yer goin’ right ’way from it,” 
sez she ; “ it’s the sec’nd street crossin’ this as 
ye go back.” So back I trudged agin, an’ 
when I’d walked what I tho’t was ’bout a 
mile I marched in ter our tent an’ set down 
the pail o’ milk on the table, an’ sez I, “ Wal, 
if it takes ’em as long ter wait on ev’rybody 
as it did me I wonder how they ever git 
thro’.” Ye don’t mean ter say ye’ve bin all 
this while gittin’ that milk!” sez she. “I 
come jest as soon’s I could,” sez I. ‘‘ If ye 


90 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


don’t b’lieve it ye kin go yerself next time.” 
I spoke ruther short, fur I didn’t want her ter 
ax any more questyuns. I knowed if she got 
hold of it I never’d hear the last of it, an’ I 
wasn’t goin’ ter give her a chance ter laff at 
me by tellin’ her I couldn’t find the way 
back. 


CHAPTER VII. 

FEEDING THE C. L. S. C.’s. 

The breakfust hed all got cold waitin’ fur 
me, an’ we didn’t neither of us feel very good- 
natered sumhow, so we didn’t git much ’njoy- 
ment out of it. When we’d eat I told her 
she needn’t wait fur me fur I wasn’t goin’ ter 
no lecters that mornin’, so she put on her 
things an’ went off ter go with Marier. I was 
glad she went, fur I hed a plan in my hed that 
I didn’t want ter let her inter. I hedn’t got 
it out o’ my mind yit ’bout them poor starvin’ 
C. L. S. C.’s, an’ I’d bin studyin’ over how I 
could giv’ ’em sumthin’ ter eat till I tho’t I’d 
got it fixed up rale cute, but I wasn’t goin’ 
ter let anybody else hev a finger in my pie. 
I took a baskit an’ filled it full o’ bread’n butter 
an’ cookies an’ things I’d bro’t ’long, an’ then 
I started out on what I s’pose sum would call 
my misshun. I’d made up my mind ’forehand 
that I’d go ter the holy land furst (fur I tho’t 
’twas more’n probable I’d find sum of ’em 
takin’ that in), an’ fur all I’d sed I wouldn’t 
go there agin I felt I’d orter sacerfise rny 
feelin’s if any good could come out of it. 

Wal, it was drefful warm, and that baskit 


92 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


was awful heavy, an’ ’fore I got there I wisht 
I’d never heerd o’ them C. L. S. C.’s, but it 
was consolin’ ter think I was actin’ like a 
good Samarit’n an’ would hev my r’ward 
sum time if I didn’t then. That didn’t hender 
my thankin’ the Lord that ’twasn’t no 
further’n ’twas, tho’ I’d gessed right ’bout 
where ter find ’em, fur when I got there I 
found sev’ril of ’em walkin’ ’round or settin’ 
down on the ground. (I knowed ’em by ther 
hevin’ ther books ’long, an’ sum of ’em hed a 
pensil stuck up over ther ear so’s to hev it 
handy when they wanted ter write down 
sumthin’.) 

I looked ’round ter see sumbody that 
looked rale hungry, fur I knowed my baskit 
didn’t hold ’nough ter feed very many, an’ I 
tho’t I’d take them that was most in need o’ 
sumthin’ furst. Now that I’d come ter it, 
it didn’t seem so easy ter go up an’ offer ’eni 
sumthin’ ter eat jest as if they was charity 
folks, an’ I set down my baskit an’ stood 
thinkin’ how ter manige it. 

Jest then two young wimmin come ’long 
near where I was an’ set down an’ went ter 
readin’. I tho’t they looked a good deal 
down-hearted, an’ I felt sartin’ they hedn’t 
hed no breakfust. It looked as tho’ I’d bin 
d’rected ’speshul ter come there, fur ’twas 
plain they wanted chirkin’ up if anybody did; 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 93 


so I picked up my baskit an’ walked ’long ter 
where they was, ’thout stoppin’ fur manners. 

Good-morninV’ sez I ter ’em. 

They looked up and sed “ Good-morninV’ 
an’ then went right on readin’ as if they 
couldn’t spend time ter say any more. 

‘‘ I gess ye b’long ter the C. L. S. C.’s, don’t 
ye?” sez I. 

“Yis,” sez one of ’em, “we’re members of 
the C. L. S. C.” “ Hev a pritty hard time, 

don’t ye ?” sez I. 

“ Not so very hard,” sez she. 

“Ye needn’t try ter make b’lieve ’tain’t so, 
dear,” I sez, “ fur I’ve heerd all ’bout it — how 
ye hev ter study so hard an’ don’t hev ’nough 
ter eat. I’m drefful sorry fur ye, an’ I’ve got 
a baskit full o’ sumthin’ I bro’t ’long, an’ yer 
welcum ter all ye kin eat;” an’ I begun takin’ 
out what ther was. 

They looked at ’em ruther wishful, an’ 
then at each other, an’ then at me, as if they 
didn’t know what ter do. 

“Ye nee'dn’t be a bit afeerd,” sez I, “fur 
Docter Vinson shan’t know a word of it, an’ 
ye kin hev it jest as well as not.” Then they 
both ’peared ter be took with a fit o’ coughin’ 
right at the same time, an’ got out ther hand- 
kerchers, an’ coughed an’ choked so ’twas 
quite a while ’fore they could say anything. 
Fin’lly one of ’em sez. 


94 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 

“ Thank you, I gess we don’t need any- 
thing ter eat. We hed our breakfust, an’ 
are goin’ ter hev our dinner bime by, so we 
ain’t sufferin’ jest now,” an’ she smiled as 
pleasant as if she was tellin’ the truth. I didn’t 



“gess ye better take it, hedn’t ye?” SEZ I. 


b’lieve a word of it, but ’twas clear they didn’t 
durst ter say anything else. “ Gess ye better 
take it, hedn’t ye ?” sez I, holdin’ out two 
slices o’ bread an’ butter with sum cold biled 
ham ’tween ’em. “ No,” sez she agin, “ I 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 95 


don’t think we want it. Jest as much ’bleeged 
ter ye, tho’.” I see they was bent on deceiv- 
in’ me, an’ ’twasn’t no use tryin’ ter make ’em 
eat anything, so I went ter puttin’ things back 
in the baskit an’ sez 1 , “ I’m feerd ye’ll be sorry 
ye didn’t take it when ye hed a chance, fur 
ye may not hev anuther right off,” an’ then I 
went off, leavin’ ’em coughin’ harder’n ever. 

I don’t see what made ’em cough so, ’nless 
they got choked tellin’ sech wrong stories. I 
was ruther diskerridged. I tho’t if they was 
all goin’ ter act that way I’d hev ter carry my 
things home agin, an’ when I’d started out ter 
do sumthin’ praise-desarvin’ it wasn’t ter my 
mind ter hev it upset so. I went ’long ter 
where there was a seat fixed round a tree, an’ 
set down ter think what ter do next. I hedn’t 
bin settin’ there but a few minits ’fore two 
men come an’ set down on the other side the 
tree an’ commenced talkin’. I didn’t notis 
much what they was sayin’ till I heerd one of 
’em say, 

“ It must cost a good deal ter keep this thing 
up. I hear they pay sum o’ ther speakers as 
high as five hunderd dollers fur cornin’ here 
ter lecter.” “Yes,” sez the other, “it costs a 
good deal, but I don’t ’xpect they count ’xpence 
in carryin’ out the Chetauquy idee. It’s won- 
derful that it should all hev started in one man’s 
head an’ grew ter sech a size in so short a time. 


96 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 

If it keeps on growin’ as it has fur the next five 
year there ain’t notellin’ where it’ll stop an’ 
then they went ter talkin’ ’bout sum body that 
was ter come all the way from Bostin ter lec- 
ter there, but I didn’t mind who ’twas. 
What they’d sed hed set me ter thinkin’, an’ 
the more thinkin’ I did the more stirred up I 
got. I tho’t here was the Deacon an’ I plod- 
din’ ’long year arter year, savin’ an’ scrimpin’ 
ter git an ’onest livin’, an’ if we come out a 
hunderd dollers ahead at the end o’ the year 
we tho’t we was doin’ pritty well, an’ now 
ter hear that men could go there an’ git five 
hunderd dollers all ter wunst jest fur lecterin’ 
two or three times was too aggervatin’ ter 
bear. I didn’t know nothin’ ’bOut the Cheta- 
quy idee, but I tho’t if that was it ’twould 
hev ter grow a nashun sight bigger ’fore 
I took any stock in it, as they say now’days. 
I hed tho’t I was too tired ter lug that baskit 
home agin, but now I took it up an’ started 
back consid’rble more lively’n I’d come, an’ 
sez I, “If this ere consarn. kin ’ford ter pay 
five hunderd dollers fur a lecter it kin ’ford 
ter feed its starvin’ poor, an’ it may do it, 
fur / shan’t. 

I walked so fast I didn’t hev no time ter 
git lost, an’ when I got there I put my things 
away, an’ set down ter git cooled off ’fore 
Mandy come. While I set there I picked 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 97 


up one o’ the ’Sembly papers that is printed 
there an’ went ter readin’ it, an’ in a little 
while I got so int’rested that I furgot how 
provoked I was. I hedn’t seen one of ’em 
’fore, an’ I was s’prised ter find how much in- 
furmashun there was in ’em. It seemed as 
tho’ there wasn’t nothin’ happ’ned on the 
hull grounds that they hedn’t got in all ’bout 
it, sides printin’ the lecters all out, so’s any- 
body could read ’em if they didn’t go an’ 
hear ’em. Then they giv’ a ’count of what 
was done ev’ry day, an’ what wasgoin’ ter be 
done next day, an’ ev’rybody’s name that 
come, an’ where they was from, an’ where 
they was stoppin’, an’ hed sumthin’ good 
ter say ’bout most all of ’em. I hedn’t 
no idee there was so many smart folks 
there till I read ’bout ’em, an’ it sort o’ set 
me up ter think I’d fell in with sech a lot o’ 
bigbugs. Then I went ter lookin’ over the 
names ter see if they’d got mine in, but I 
couldn’t find it anywhere, an’ ter tell the truth 
my feelin’s was a good deal hurt. Ter be 
sure the Deacon ain’t a preacher, but he’s one 
o’ the pillers o’ the church ter home, an’ looked 
up ter most as much, an’ if they’d jest sed that 
Mis Deacon Hartshorn hed come, and was 
stoppin’ on Miller Av’nu, ’twouldn’t a bin 
nothin’ more’n proper. But they hedn’t sed 
a word ’bout it, an’ now there wouldn’t any- 


98 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


body know I was there ’nless I told ’em, an’ I 
tho’t ’twasn’t treatin’ me very respec’ful. 1 
didn’t know but ’twas ’cause there wasn’t 
room, fur there was so much ter tell ’bout 
what Docter Vinson was doin’ that ’twasn’t 
any wonder if they hed ter leave out sum- 
body ; but I couldn’t help feelin’ ruther sore 
ter think it should a bin me. I put the paper 
down an’ set ’bout gittin’ dinner, but I was 
thinkin’ all the time that things never air as 
they should be in this wurld. Sum folks is 
alers gittin’ more’n b’longs ter ’em, an’ others, 
jest as desarvin’, has ter take what’s left, an’ 
sumtimes ’tain’t ’greeable. Gittin’ dinner 
didn’t put me in any better frame o’ mind. 
Mis Baker an’ me hed ter do all our cookin’ on 
one stove that wasn’t big ’nough tergitadesent 
dinner on anytime, an’ it took a good deal o’ 
manigin’ ter git ’long. The fire wouldn’t 
burn wuth a cent, an’ ’tween coaxin’ that an’ 
trottin’ back an’ forth, I was cooked harder’n 
the dinner was by the time ’twas ready. 
When Mandy came she hed lots ter say ’bout 
what a nice lecter she’d heerd, but 1 answered 
her up ruther short an’ sed I didn’t know as I 
wanted ter hear anything ’bout it. Why 
not ?” sez she. “ ’Cause I’ve heerd this 
mornin’ that they pay sum o’ them fellers as 
much as five hunderd dollers fur cornin’ here 
ter lecter,” sez I, “an’ it made me so out o’ 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 99 


pashunce that I don’t feel as tho’ I wanted 
ter hear any more of ’em.” “ Wal, I s’pose 

they think they’d orter hev it fur knowin’ 
more’n other folks do,” sez she. “ No, they 
hedn’t,” sez I ; “ ther brains didn’t cost ’em 
nothin’, — least-ways I never heerd o’ the 
Lord’s chargin’ anybody anything fur what 
he giv’ ’em, — an’ ter see ’em so graspin’ as ter 
go ’round the country axin’ five hunderd dol- 
lers fur tellin’ folks what they know looks ter 
me as if they was ruther makin’ capitle out o' 
the Almighty.” 

“ Wy, Mis Hartshorn!” sez she, “how ye 
do talk ! I think it’s awful wicked ter say sech 
things.” 

“ I can’t help it if ’tis,” sez I ; “ it’s my ’pin- 
yun, an’ I kal’late I’ve got jest as good a right 
ter it as they hev ter ther’n.” “ I don’t see 
how yer goin’ ter better it any by stayin’ ’way 
from the meetin’s,” sez she ; “ anyhow, /shan’t. 
I’ve paid fur my ticket an’ I’m goin’ ter hev 
the wuth o’ my money, if it keeps me goin’ 
from mornin’ till night.” I hedn’t tho’t o’ that 
’fore. It did look as if I’d be cheatin’ myself 
out o’ what b’longed ter me if I staid ’way, an’ 
yit I didn’t feel like ’umerin’ ’em by goin’ ter 
hear ’em. Then I happ’ned ter think I could 
read all the lecters in the papers if I didn’t 
go, so I shouldn’t lose nothin’ ’xcept seein’ ’em, 
an’ that wasn’t wuth takin’ inter ’count. “ I 


loo Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


gess ye’d better go ter the meetin’ at five 
o’clock,” sez she, when we’d eat our dinner. 
‘‘ What’s that?” sez I. “ It’s a meetin’ fur the 
C. L. S. C’s, where they git tergether ter talk 
’bout the blunders they make talkin’,” sez she. 
“ Marier sez it’s lots o’ fun ter hear ’em.” 
“ Mercy sakes !” sez L I wonder if they can’t 
talk yit ’tho’t makin’ blunders arter all the 
studyin’ they’ve done. ’Pears ter me they ain’t 
gittin’ ’long very fast.” “ They hev ter be dref- 
ful pertic’lar how they talk,” she sez, ‘‘so’s ter 
be sort o’ an egsample fur other folks.” I don’t 
know as I feel like takin’ ’em fur an egsam- 
ple,” sez I. “ Pve lived in this ere wurld over 
fifty year an’ I ain’t never hed no diffikilty in 
makin’ folks understand me yit, an’ if I make 
any blunders talkin’ I reckon I’m too old ter 
larn the new-fangled ways o’ sayin’ things.” 
It struck me I’d go ter the meetin’ fur all 
that, ter see how fur ’long they’d got. I hedn’t 
’counted on goin’ ter the arternoon lecter, but 
when Mandy an’ Marier started I tho’t I’d 
walk ’long with ’em a little ways, an’ when 
we got there I sed I might as well hev a seat 
as ter be walkin’ ’round. I didn’t keer nothin’ 
’bout bearin’ the lecter, but I wanted a chance 
ter see sum o’ them smart folks I’d read ’bout 
in the paper. I couldn’t make ’em out very 
well, fur there wasn’t no way o’ findin’ out 
who Docter this or that was, an’ I tho’t 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. loi 


’twould a bin a good plan if they’d hed ther 
names printed on ther hats so’s ev’rybody 
could see it; but whenever I see a pair o’ 
specticlesan’ a camp-cheer goin’ down towards 
the front I made up my mind that the man be- 
hind ’em was sumbody wuth notisin’, an’ then 
I’d take a good squint at him. There was a 
good many folks there that didn’t strike me 
as bein’ r’markable in any ’way ’nless ’twas in 
bein’ plain lookin’. Sum of ’em I took ter be 
’bout as homespun as I was. 

One thing I couldn’t help notisin’ all the 
time I was there, an’ that was what a likin’ 
ev’rybody seemed ter hev fur peanuts. Ye 
couldn’t go anywhere, ter a lecter or any- 
thing else, but what ye’d see ’em munchin’ 
‘way at ’em as tho’ they couldn’t git nothin’ else 
ter eat. Wy, it kept ’em bizzy ter one place 
there all ’the time cookin’ ’em, an’ ’twas 
’stonishin’ where they ever got ’nough ter 
feed sech a crowd. I don’t s’pose there was 
any harm in ther eatin’ ’em if they wanted ter, 
an’ I tho’t ’twas rale crewel in Docter Vin- 
son when I heerd him tell them C. L. S. C.’s 
they mustn’t eat ’em — jest ’cause it didn’t look 
well ! 

No dout the poor things was glad ’nough 
ter git hold o’ anything, an’ it looked down- 
right onfeelin’ ter deprive ’em o’ that leetle 
comfort. ’Nuther thing I notised was that 


102 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


everybody wasn’t there fur the sake o’ im- 
provin’ ’emselves. ’Cordin’ ter my way o’ 
thinkin’ there was a good deal goin’ on that 
couldn’t be called egsackly improvin’, but 
they ’peared ter injoy it jest as much fur all 
that. 1 found out, too, I wasn’t the only one 
that didn’t keer as much ’bout bearin’ the lec- 
ters as they did fur seein’ folks, fur I see a good 
many that wasn’t payin’ no ’tenshun ter what 
was sed, an’ I don’t b’lieve they could hev 
told any better’n I could what ’twas all ’bout. 
I did git int’rested in one thing, tho’, an’ that 
was the blunder-meetin’ at five o’clock. 

There wasn’t no lecter then, but they jest 
giv’ up the time ter talkin’ ’bout the blunders 
they’d heerd. The C. L. S. C.’s would write 
down sumthin’ sumbody’d sed an’ hand it 
ter Docter Vinson, an’ he’d read it an’ tell 
’em what they’d orter sed ; an’ I tho’t ’twas 
’stonishin’ what a blunderin’ set they was 
there, not ter know how ter talk better. But 
the wust of all was when he found hed bin 
makin’ sum, an’ hed got picked up fur it. I 
never should a durst ter told him of it in the 
wurld if I’d heerd it, but he took it rale good- 
natered an’ got out of it by sayin’ he didn’t 
b’lieve he ever sed it. They couldn’t all ’gree 
on sum pints, an’ it took a sight o’ discussin’ 
ter settle what ’twas proper ter say. ’Fore 
they got thru I felt as tho’ I hedn’t ever 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chatitauqun, 103 

lamed how ter talk, an’ wasn’t likely ter when 
them that knowed so much more’n I did 
couldn’t ’gree. 

When we was goin’ home Marier sez, “We 
sh’ll want ter go ter all the meetin’s ter-mor- 
rer, fur it’s goin’ ter be a big day.” “ What 
they goin’ ter do?” I axed. “Oh, ye must 
read the program in the paper,” sez she. “ I 
can’t begin ter tell all of it. They ’xpect Gin’ral 
Garfield fur one thing, an’ I wouldn’t miss 
seein’ him fur a good deal.” 

“ Is he cornin’ here ter lecter?” sez I. “I 
gess not,” sez she, “ but I s’pose they pay 
him jest the same, fur there’s lots more folks’ll 
come ter see him than would come ter hear 
a lecter.” “ I don’t know as I’d go very fur 
ter see him,” sez I. “A man ain’t sech a won- 
derful thing that anybody need ter put ’em- 
selves out ter see one.” “That ’pends on 
who ’tis,” sez she. “ I never see a live pres’- 
dent yit, an’ if he’s goin’ ter be the next one 
I want a look at him.” I don’t ’xpect what 
she sed hed anything ter do with it, but I got 
ter thinkin’ mebbe 'twoiild be sumthin’ wuth 
tellin’ of when I got home. I’ve notised 
folks is alers treated more respec’ful if they’ve 
seen sumbody oncommon, an’ ’tain’t ev’ry 
day there’s a chance ter see a pres’dent, so I 
tho’t p’raps I’d better take a leetle pains ter see 
him. Fact was, I was beginnin’ ter feel a good 


104 ^cincy Hartshorn at Chautauqita. 


deal wore out a’ ready, fur I wasn’t ust ter 
trampin’ ’round so much. I’ve bin takin’ on 
flesh consid’rble late years, an’ I find ’tain’t 
so easy gittin’ ’bout as ’twas wunce. Then 
there was sumthin’ happ’nin’ all the time ter 
keep me stirred up so I couldn’t git no chance 
ter rest. It ralely seemed as if I was workin’ 
harder’n I would ter staid ter home, but I 
wasn’t goin’ ter giv up arter all the fuss I’d 
hed ter come — only I couldn’t help thinkin’ 
that evenin’ that I would like a more comfort- 
able bed ter sleep on. It seemed as tho’ I’d 
never git ust ter sleepin’ on sech a thing as I 
hed ter there (let ’lone all the rest there was 
ter keep me ’wake). Mandy didn’t seem ter 
mind it so much ; but she was younger’n I 
was, an’ could git ’long with sech things better. 

Next mornin’ when I was dressin’ Mandy 
sez, Ain’t ye goin’ ter wear yer silk dress 
ter-day?” “What sh’d T wear that fur?” sez 
I, “it’s my Sunday dress, an’ I ain’t goin’ ter 
be so ’xtravagunt as ter put it on week-days.” 
“Ye won’t hurt it any,” sez she, “an’ ev’ry- 
body’ll wear the best they’ve got ter-day.” 
“ Wal, / shan’t, that’s sartin,” sez I. “ If folks ^ 
is a mind ter put on ther nice clothes ter go 
trapsin’ ’round here ev’ry day let ’em, but I 
hope I’ve got more sense’n ter do sech a 
thing.” 

She didn’t say no more ter me, but went 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 105 


an’ rigged herself up in her best dress an’ 
put on bows an’ fixin’s, as tho’ she ’xpected 
ev’rybody’d be lookin’ at her. I brushed up 
my black alpacky an’ put it on, hopin’ she’d 
feel r’proved fur bein’ so vain. When it come 
ter gittin’ the milk I sed I didn’t feel like 
walkin’ so fur, an’ Mandy sed she didn’t want 
ter go; so we sed we’d hev Mr. Baker git it, 
’cause he could go quicker. He was gone so 
long I mistrusted he’d got lost too, so 1 started 
out ter look fur him, an’ found he’d come 
’cross a man ’fore he got ter the corner, an’ 
there he stood talkin*’ as if he s’posed the milk 
would bring itself. “ Mr. Baker, ain’t ye got 
that milk yit?” I called out ter him. “I’m 
goin’ right arter it,” sez he, startin’ off pritty 
fast. “ That’s jest like a man,” sez I ter 
Mandy; “giv’ ’em sumbody ter talk ter an’ 
they ain’t wuth more’n an old turkey gobbler 
fur bein’ o’ use ter anybody.” I gess he was 
Teerd I’d scold him, fur he was back in a few 
minits an’ was wonderful sosh’ble. “ What 
d’ye s’pose the Deacon would giv’ if he could 
be here ter-day ?” sez he, pokin’ the fire, an’ 
makin’ me wait fur him ter git out o’ my way. 
“ Not more’n I’d giv’ if I was there,” sez I, 
speakin’ up pritty quick. “ Ho, I gess yer 
homesick, ain’t ye.^” sez he. “I don’t keer 
what ye call it,” sez I, “but if I could jest 
step foot in my kitch’n this mornin’ I wouldn’t 


io6 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtm. 


ax fur nothin’ else. When I go off pleasurin’ 
agin I’ll go sumwhere where I won’t hev ter 
work fur it as I do now. ’Cordin’ ter my 
thinkin’ a body pays fur all they git here.” 
“ And ’cordin’ ter my thinkin’ they git all they 
pay fur too,” sez he, laffin’, “ so I gess it’s ’bout 
square. But ye’d better git out as soon’s ye 
kin an’ see how nice they’ve got things fixed 
up,” sez he ; an’ sure ’nough it did look as fine 
as a 4 th of July celebrashun. The paper hed 
told ’em all ter hang out ther flags an’ make 
things look rale smart, ’cause there was so 
many folks cornin’, an’ ’twas su’prisin’ how 
many they’d maniged ter hunt up an’ how 
tasty they’d got ’em ’ranged. ‘‘ I didn’t know’s 
there was so many flags in the hull country,” 
sez I ter Mandy, but she was so took up with 
seein’ folks that she didn’t hear me; an’ ’twasn’t 
no wonder, fur it did seem as if all creashun 
hed turned out ter come there that day. An’ 
then sech dressin’ ! There ain’t no tellin’ 
nothin’ ’bout it, only that there was silks an’ 
sat’ns an’ velvet an’ beads an’ lace, an’ I don’t 
know what all, heaped tergether till, ye 
couldn’t tell what ’twas meant fur. 

The way sum o’ them wimmin was got up 
was past findin’ out, an’ I tho’t while I was 
lookin’ at ’em if Solomun hed bin there he’d 
hed ter go an’ hide himself, fur I don’t ’xpect 
if he’d bin drest up in all his glory he could a 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chazitatiqua, 107 


held a candle ter ’em. I couldn’t help turnin’ 
’round ter look at sum of ’em when they past 
me, but Mandy kep’ pullin’ me ’long, fur she sed 
it didn’t look well. I won’t ’low I felt ’shamed 
o’ my alpacky dress, but sumhow it didn’t look 
as nice as it did when I put it on, an’ I sort 
o’ hed the feelin’ that ev’rybody was lookin’ at 
it. It didn’t make it any better knowin’ I 
hed a black silk in my trunk seein’ nobody else 
knowed it, an’ I wisht more’n wunce I hedn’t 
bin so set ’bout not wearin’ it. We went ter 
the ampletheter pritty airly so as ter git 
good seats, an’ we found ev’rybody else 
(’peared ter be) possess’d with the same 
idee, fur they come pourin’ in so fast it didn’t 
take long ter fill ’em all, an’ then they kep’ 
cornin’ with cheers till there wasn’t no room 
left. When it come time ter begin’ the meet- 
in’ them jubylee singers carried ev’rybody 
’way with ther singin’ agin, an’ then instid o’ 
hevin’ a lecter there was speeches by Docter 
Vinson an’ Mr. Stewart, an’ a good many 
more that I don’t rec’lect ther names, only I 
remember they figered consider’ble in the 
war. There was sumthin’ they called the 
Christyun commishun that they’d hed a good 
deal ter do with, an’ Docter Vinson hed in- 
vited ’em ter hold a meetin’ there an’ talk 
’bout it; an’ when 1 found out what ’twas, an’ 
how much good it did ter the sick an’ wound- 


io8 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautatcqua, 


ed solgers, I was ’most ’shamed ter think I 
didn’t know more ’bout it. It was rale techin’ 
ter hear ’em tell how the poor fellers suff’red, 
an’ what they sed when they was dyin’. Most 
ev’rybody got ter cryin’, an’ ’fore I knowed 
it I was huntin’ fur my handkercher. “ I can’t 
see no use in harrowin’ up folkes feelin’s by 
bringin’ up sech drefful things,” sqz I ter 
Mandy. “1 s’pose they’re afeerd we’ll furgit 
it,” sez she. “There* ain’t no danger o’ our 
furgittin’ it if they didn’t say nothin’ ’bout it,” 
sez I ; “ anyhow, I can’t see what it has ter do 
with a Sunday-school ’sembly.” Wai, they 
kep’ on talkin’ till ’twas dinner-time, an’ then 
they let up a spell so’s ter giv’ folks a chance 
ter git sumthin’ ter eat. When we got home 
the furst thing I did was ter git out my black 
silk dress an’ 'put it on. “ I tho’t ye wasn’t 
goin’ ter wear that ter-day,” sez Mandy. 
“ Wal, my alpacky is drefful warm, an’ I tho’t 
I’d see if this wouldn’t be more comfort’ble,” 
sez I. 

She laffed but didn’t say nothin’, only I 
gess she was glad I put it on, fur if I do say 
it, I looked pritty spruce fur a woman o’ my 
age, an’ she hedn’t no reason ter be mortyfied 
at bein’ seen with me. Arter dinner they 
went on with the meetin’ an’ hed sev’ril more 
speeches, an’ it seemed as if they never would 
git thru tellin’ all there was ter tell. O’ 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 109 


course ’twas a good deal int’restin’, but that 
didn’t keep me from gittin’ so tired that my 
head was spinnin’ like a top when ’twas out 
with hevin’ so much crowded inter it, an’ I 
was proper glad ter git home agin an’ stop 
bearin’ things. There was ter be a consert 
an’ a lecter in the evenin’ an’ Mandy tho’t I’d 
better go, but I told her I’d heerd ’nough 
fur one day, an’ nothin’ short of an airthquake 
could start me out agin. When she’d gone 
I set thinkin’ over things, an’ ’fore I knowed 
it I dopped off ter sleep, an’ then the most 
sing’ler thing happ’ned ! I dreampt that the 
Decon went an’ jined the army an’ got shot, 
an’ was goin’’ ter die ; an’ when that air 
Christyun commishun ^xed him where was 
his wife, so’s they could tell her, he went an’ 
giv’ ’em a woman’s name what lives over the 
Ridge, that he sed he was married ter when 
I was gone ter Chetauquy. It giv’ me sech a 
shock that it woke me up, an’ I declare I felt 
as if I’d jest come from my own fun’ral. 

’Twas quite a spell ’fore I could b’lieve 
’twas nothin’ but a dream, an’ then I couldn’t 
git over feelin’ oncomfort’ble. I’d hed too 
many r’mark’ble dreams not ter know that 
sech a one as that meant sumthin’, an’ I set 
an’ tried ter think what it could be. I knowed 
there wasn’t no army fur him ter jine, but 
that part ’bout his marryin’ anuther woman 


no Na7tcy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


made me a good deal oneasy. O’ course I 
knowed the Deacon was a man o’ good moral 
karacter, an’ ’twasn’t no-ways likely he’d do 
sech a thing ; but men is queer critters an’ 
’tain’t safe ter trust ’em too fur. The best o’ 
’em ’ll bear watchin’, an’ I’vealers made it a 
pint ter keep an eye on him — not that I’ve ever 
hed any ’spichuns of him, fur he’s gin’rally be- 
haved himself pritty well, but it’s better on 
sum ’counts. Wal, as I sed, I set there thinkin’ 
whether or no I’d done jest the right thing 
in cornin’ off an’ leavin’ him. If he should take 
a noshun ter go an’ see the widder Tompkins 
an’ git himself talked ’bout I should be mor- 
tyfied ’most ter death. I’d heerd him say 
wunce that he tho’t she was an oncommon 
likely woman, an’ it struck me mebbe he’d 
feel free ter go an’ see her, seein’ I was ’way. 
Thinkin’ ’bout it didn’t make me feel any 
easier, an’ I gess I’d bin willin’ ter giv’ all I 
hed in the wurld if I could a knowed where 
he was that evenin’. 


CHAPTER Viri. 

THE GRAND SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 


When Mandy come she went ter praisin’ 
up the consert, an’ sed what a pity ’twas I 
didn’t go ; an’ I wisht I hed, if ’twould kep’ 
me from hevin’ that dream. I didn’t feel 
much like talkin’, an’ when we’d got ter bed 
Mandy went ter sleep pritty quick, but I lay 
an’ fidgited till ’most mornin’. I don’t s’pose 
there was anybody in all that ’sembly in sech 
a state o’ mind as I was, an’ I wisht a good 
many times that Chetauquy hed bin drounded 
in the lake ’fore I ever heerd of it. It seemed 
as if mornin’ would never come, an’ when it 
did I felt as tho’ I’d hed an ’tack o’ fever an’ 
ager. Mandy see I wasn’t very chipper an’ 
axed me if I was sick. “ Yes,” sez I, “ I feel 
pritty bad, an’ if ’twasn’t Sunday I sh’d start 
fur home.” She was fur hevin’ me go an’ see 
a docter, but I knowed ’twasn’t no doctor’s 
stuff I wanted. I hed no doubt if I could git 
my mind on sumthin’ else an’ stop thinkin’ ’bout 
the Deacon I’d feel better. There was ter be 
a big Sunday-school that mornin’, an’ I tho’t 
mebbe I’d like that as well as anything; so 


1 1 2 Nancy Hartshor 7 i at Chautauqua, 


when we’d hed breakfust we went ter the 
ampletheter, where ’twas ter be held. Wal, 
I was goin’ ter tell ’bout it, but, sakes 
alive ! there ain’t no sech thing as givin’ any- 
body any idee of it. I was ’xpectin’ ter see 
sumthin’ pritty big, but it went beyend 
ev’rything I ever see or heerd of fur a Sun- 
day-school. The childern, an’ the grown up 
folks too, was all ’ranged in classes, with 
teachers ter hear ’em say ther lessons, an’ 
when they got ter goin’ an’ was all talkin’ ter 
wunce I couldn’t think o’ nothin’ fur all the 
wurld but the Lord’s confusin’ the folkses 
tongues when they was buildin’ the tower o’ 
Bable, an’ I tho’t it must a sounded a good 
deal as that did. I s’pose ’twasn’t proper ter 
laff, but I couldn’t help it fur all that, an’ I 
gess Docter Vinson himself would a laffed if 
he’d stood on the outside an’ heerd it. Mandy 
wanted ter know if I was goin’ ter jine a class, 
but I sed I gessed I was too old ter go ter lam- 
in’ my Sunday-school lessons over agin, an’ 
she sed she didn’t want ter, so, as ’twasn’t per- 
ticler edifyin’ lookin’ on, we sed we’d walk 
’round a bit ’fore meetin’ time. Jest as we 
started ter go ’way we run aginst Mr. Slo- 
cum from the Corners. I was drefful glad ter 
see him when I found out he’d jest come, fur 
I wanted ter hear from there powerful bad. 
“ How’s the Deacon gittin’ long?” sez I, soon s I 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 1 1 3 


could ’thout seemin’ too cur’us. “ Wal, 1 gess 
he ain’t hevin’ a very good time,” sez he ; ‘ he 
looked a good deal down in the mouth when 
I see him yisterday, an’ when I sed I was 
cornin’ here he sed if ’twasn’t agin his prin- 
serples ter go off a pleasurin’ Sundays he 
didn’t know but what he’d come ’long too. 
It’s my ’pinyun he’ll be pritty glad ter see ye 
when ye git home/ Sumhow that r’lieved 
me wonderful. I tho’t if he was ’njoyin’ him- 
self he wouldn’t be wantin’ ter see me, an’ I 
could see plain ’nough that was what he 
wanted. I begun ter feel so much better that 
I sed ter myself mebbe I’d better stay till ’twas 
out mstid o’ goin’ home next day. “ How 
long ye goin’ ter stay?” sez I. must go 
back ter-morrer,” sez he ; “ what shall I say 
ter the Deacon fur ye ?” “Ye kin tell him I’m 
’njoyin’ myself furstrate, an’ ain’t makin’ no 
kal’lashuns on cornin’ home till the ’sembly’s 
out,” sez I, fur I wasn’t goin’ ter hev him 
think I was frettin’ myself on his ’count. He 
laffed, an’ sez, “ I shouldn’t wonder if ye’d hev 
sum house-cleanin’ ter do when ye git there, 
fur the Deacon don’t seem ter take ter keepin’ 
house much.” Then he sez, “ Hev ye seen 
Gin’ral Garfield yit?” “No,” sez I, “ an’ I 
reckon I ain’t likely ter, fur I don’t much 
b’lieve he was cornin’. I heerd they was 
’xpectin’ him yisterday, but I ain’t seen nothin’ 


1 1 4 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


of him, an’ I mistrust they got up sech a 
story so’s ter git lots o’ folks ter come here.” 

I gess that ain’t so,” sez he, “ fur I heerd a 
man say he see him here this mornin’, an’ as 
that’s what I’m here fur I gess I’ll go an’ find 
out where he’s stoppin’.” ’Twas clear they 
was all ’xpectin’ sumthin’, an’ when the Sun- 
day-school let out they filled up the ample- 
theter agin quicker’n I’m tellin’ ’bout it; an’ 
then there was a sarmon preached by sum- 
body they called a docter, but I’m sartin he 
must a bin a preacher, fur no docter could a 
preached like that. I must say ’twas more 
ter my mind than anything I’d heerd yit, an’ 
I couldn’t help wishin’ the Deacon hed bin 
there ter hear it, fur I knowed ’twas jest his 
views on sum pints. I was so int’rested I 
furgot all ’bout Gin’ral Garfield. I heerd 
arterwards that he was there, but if he was 
he kep’ still ’bout it, an’ I don’t ’xpect many 
of ’em knowed it. 

When the meetin’ was out folks didn’t 
hardly giv’ ’emselves time ter eat ther dinners 
’fore they was back agin, an’ it seemed as if 
the crowd was bigger’n ever, if sech a thing 
could be. It ’peared ter be giner’lly under- 
stood that he was ter be there, an’ ’twas a 
good deal amusin’ ter see folkses heads a 
bobbin’ every time there was any stir, as tho’ 
they was ’feerd they shouldn’t see him ; but 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 1 1 5 


they might hev saved ’emselves the trouble, 
fur Docter Vinson maniged it so’s they could 
all git a look at him ’thout breakin’ ther necks. 
When it come time fur ter begin the meetin’ 
he bro’t him out on the platform an’ inter- 
duced him ter ’em, an’ then, as quick as a 
flash o’ lightnin’, ev’rybody hed out ther hand- 
kerchers shakin’ ’em af him. There wasn’t 
no cheerin’, but they desarved a good deal o’ 
credit fur keepin’ it back when they wanted 
ter so bad, an’ ’twas a powerful sight more 
sollum’n if they hed. I ’xpect ’twas what 
I’ve heerd called a ‘‘ speakin’ silunce.” They 
couldn’t all shake hands with him, so Docter 
Vinson did it fur ’em, an’ it seemed as if they 
was sort o’ ’xpectin’ the Gin’ral would make 
a speech then ; but he didn’t, ’cause ’twas Sun- 
day, an’ he was only there so’s folks could look 
at him. I was settin’ pritty near in front an’ 
hed a good chance ter see him, an’ I’m free ter 
say I didn’t diskiver anything r’mark’ble ’bout 
him as fur as looks is consarned. There was a 
good many likelier lookin’ men in that 
crowd’n he was, an’ I couldn’t help thinkin’ 
that it’s ’stonishin’ how ready ev’rybody is 
ter fall down an’ wurship a man if he’s only 
got a handle hitched onter his name — there 
ain’t nothin’ else’ll lift up a man so high in 
this wurld as that will. 

Now, I never was one o’ the kind ter be all 


1 1 6 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


carried ’way with sumbody jest ’cause they’ve 
got a big name. I ’xpect Queen Victory’s a 
pritty nice sort o’ woman, but I kal’late if her 
name hed been Nanc}^ Hartshorn nobody ’d 
ever found out she was anything r’mark’ble, 
an’ if I’d happ’ned ter be born Queen Victory 
there ain’t no sech thing as tollin’ what a 
smart woman I’d a bin. Fact is there’s a good 
many things in this wurld I’d hed diff’runt if 
I’d hed my say ’bout it, but I found out a long 
time ago ’twasn’t no sort o’ use ter try an’ 
fix ’em any better. They’ve alers bin so, an’ 
1 ’xpect they alers will. Let me see, what 
was I tollin’ ’bout ? Oh ! ’bout Gin’ral Gar- 
field. Wal, arter ev’rybody’d seen him he 
went an’ set down, an’ then the Young Men’s 
Christyun ’Sosiashun took up the mootin’ an’ 
told what they’d bin doin’ fur the last thirty 
year or more, an’ I declare I could hardly 
b’lieve my own ears. The day’ fore I tho’t that 
Christyun commishun hed done more good 
in the wurld’n anything else, but now I see 
I was mistak’n, fur the Young Men’s ’Sosia- 
shun beat ’em all ter peices, ’cordin’ ter ’counts. 
Wy, they’d actu’lly gone clear ter Jeruserlum 
an’ Nazaruth an’ set up ’sosiashuns there, 
tho’ anybody’d s’pose the folks there’d be 
sech good Christyuns they wouldn’t need any 
sech things ; but I shouldn’t wonder if hu- 
man nater is pritty much the same the wurld 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 117 


over, an’ ’twouldn’t be noways su’prisin’ if 
they’d bear bein’ made better over there. But 
the most sing’ler thing of all was that they’d 
got ter Chicaugo an’ gone ter work ter git 
sumbody convarted there ! Not but what 
there was need ’nough, the mercy knows, but 
how on airth anybody ever hed the kurrige 
ter try ter do anything fur sech a set o’ heath’n 
as there is there is more’n I kin tell. ’Bout 
the furst man ter make a speech was a man 
that come from there an’ he was quite a likely 
man too — I don’t know but I’d took him fur 
a York State man if they hedn’t sed he was 
from Chicaugo — an’ I tho’t ’twas rale inkur- 
rigin’ ter hear that so many folks there hed 
r’formed an’ was behavin’ ’emselves more 
’spectable. Wal, there was a good many 
speeches, an’ sum singin’ by the jubylee 
singers, an’ takin’ it all tergether I tho’t ’twas 
’bout as int’restin’ as any meetin’ I’d bin ter. 
Arter ’twas out the young wimmin hed tJier 
meetin’, but o’ course they couldn’t tell any- 
thing like sech things o’ what they was doin’, 
fur they hedn’t nothin’ ter work on. There 
wasn’t no need fur ’em ter go ’round huntin’ up 
misshunary work as long’s there wasn’t nothin’ 
ter do. The most that could be ’xpected of ’em 
was that they sli’d read ther bibles an’ go ter 
meetin’ Sundays an’ hev a class in Sunday- 
school, an’ it‘s likely all young wimmin does 


ii8 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


that, so they didn't stand no chance o’ r’form- 
in' anybody. 

There was ter be anuther meetin’ in the 
evenin’, but I didn’t feel it my dooty ter go. 
I’d alers bin ust ter regardin’ Sunday as a day 
o’ rest fur meditatin’ an’ readin’ the Scripters, 
an’ it didn’t seem ter me. ter be ’xactly right 
ter be goin’ all the time, ev’n if ’twas ter 
meetin’, so I staid ter home an’ meditated, but 
I’m ’feerd I didn’t read the Scripters much. 

The next mornin’ it got ’round that Gin- 
’ral Garfield was goin’ ter leave on the furst 
boat, an’ ev’rybody was postin’ down ter the 
landin’ ter see him off. I told Mandy I could 
spend my time ter better ’count’n ter be 
chasin’ arter him, but she was so bent on 
seein’ ev’rything there was ter see that I 
’xpect she’d broke her neck if she’d hed ter 
’fore she’d missed goin’. I tho’t she’d say 
more ter git me ter go, but she didn’t urge 
me none, an’ I kinder tho’t she’d ruther I 
wouldn’t. When she’d gone, I happ’ned ter 
think mebbe I’d hev a chance ter git an inter- 
ducshun ter him if I went, an’ then I husled 
on my things an’ went taggin’ ’long arter the 
rest ; but as soon’s I got there I giv’ up that 
idee, fur I couldn’t git within a good many rod 
o’ him, fur the crowd there was. I tho’t he 
must think he was sumbody consider’ble, ter 
make sech a sight o’ folks turn out so airly in 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 1 1 g 


the mornin’ ter see him, but he didn’t ’pear 
ter be set up any by it notwithstandin’, an’ 
made a rale nice speech when he was inter- 
duced agin, thankin’ ’em fur treatin’ him so 
well an’ sayin’ how much pleased he was with 
Chetauquy. I gess a good many was ’xpectin’ 
he’d say sumthin’ ’bout polytics, but if they 
did hedisapinted ’em, fur he didn’t say nothin’ 
ter show what side he was on, an’ I tho’t on 
sum ’counts ’twas jest as well he didn’t. 
When he got there they cheered him ’nough 
ter make up fur ther keepin’ still the day ’fore, 
an’ I gess he found out they could make 
noise ’nough when they set out ter. They 
kep’ proposin’ more cheers, till fin’lly the ju- 
bylee singers hed ter sing a piece ter make 
’em git quiet. O’ course arter that they hed 
ter go ter cheerin’ agin, an’ when the boat 
started off they waved ther handkerchers an’ 
sung Glory Halleluyer at him as long’s he 
could hear ’em. Seemed as tho’ they tho’t 
the more they did the better he’d* think o’ 
’em, an’ sartinly they couldn’t hev done any 
more if he’d bin a rale presidunt. I didn’t 
wait ter see whether they fired off any big 
guns or not, fur I wanted ter git back ’fore 
Mandy did, so she wouldn’t know I went. 
When she come I was settin’ there as quiet as 
if I hedn’t stirred sence she went ’way. I 
didn’t ax her ’bout it, fur I tho’t ’twould look 


1 20 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


as if I was cur’us ter know how he got off, an’ 
she hed so much ter do ter fix herself in 
rig ter go ter meetin’ that she didn’t think 
ter tell me. When ’twas time ter go, seein’ 
I wasn’t gittin’ ready, she axed me if I wasn’t 
goin’. 

“No,” sez I, “ I gess I’ll take it sort o’ easy 
an’ not go ter meetin’ much ter-day.” “ What 
air ye goin’ ter do, then?” sez she, lookin’ 
ruther s’prised. “ I’ll manige ter find sum- 
thin’ ter take up my time,” sez I; “ye needn’t 
stay ter home on my ’count.” Ter tell the 
truth, I hed sev’ril things on my mind that I 
tho’t ’twasn’t nec’sary ter tell her ’bout. Now 
Mandy’s a rale nice sort o’ body, an’ I wov.dn’t 
say a word agin her fur nothin’ ; but she’s 
drefful proper, an’ she’s got an’ idee’n her hed 
that it don’t look well ter be lookin’ inter 
things an’ askin’ questyuns ’bout ’em. Now I’m 
ruther o’ ’n ’nvestigatin’ turn o’ mind. I like 
ter see inter things, an’ if there’s an3^thing I 
want ter know I don’t mind askin’ ’bout it. 
I don’t ’xpect ter go thru’ this wurld but 
wunce, an’ I’m goin’ ter git all the informa- 
shun I kin out o’ it this time, if I do git 
laffed at; but Mandy was so ’feerd o’ hevin’ 
sumbody think she was from the country 
that she’d a died ’fore she’d axed anybody 
anything, an’ tho’ she hedn’t sed much I 
could see it ruther mortyfyed her ev’ry time 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 1 2 1 


I did, so I made up my mind I’d go ’thout 
her when I went sight-seein’. That was why 
I didn’t tell her what I was kal’latin’ ter do. 
There was sev’ril things I wanted ter see, an’ 
I didn’t want her ’long pullin’ my dress an’ 
nudgin’ me if I didn’t do ev’rything jest 
proper. When she went off I put on my 
things an’ set off on ’n ’nvestigatin’ tower. I 
wasn’t settled where ter go furst, but I tho’t 
I’d take what seemed ter come in my way; so 
I walked ’long till I come ter a buildin’ that 
hed 'Sembty Hertd printed on it, an’ I sed 
ter myself I sh’dn’t wonder if that was where 
they made ’em, an’ seein’ that was one o’ the 
places I wanted ter go ter I might as well 
begin there. There was a man cornin’ out as 
I was goin’ in, an’ I sez ter him, “ Is the 
editer of the paper here?” *'Yes, there he 
is,” sez he, pintin’ ter a nice lookin’ man that 
was settin’ there. He heerd me askin’ fur 
him, an’ got up an’ come ’long, an’ sez, “ Good- 
mornin’ ; what can I do fur ye this mornin’P” 
“ ’Nothin’ pertic’lar, thank ye,” sez I ; I was 
goin’ past here an’ I tho’t I’d jest step in an’ 
see ye,” an’ then, seein’ he didn’t ’pear ter 
know me, I sez, 

“I’m Mis Deacon Hartshorn from the 
Corners, an’ I’m stoppin’ on Miller Av’nu’.” 

“I’m very glad ter see ye. Mis Hartshorn,” 
sez he, reachin’ out his hand an’ smilin’ as 


122 Najicy Hartshorn at Chazitauqua. 


pleasant as if he’d alers knowed me ; “ I take it 
ye’ve jest come.” “ No,” sez I, “ I’ve bin 
here sev’ril days, but ye didn’t put it in the 
paper when I come, so ’tain’t strange ye don’t 
r’member ’bout it.” “ Realy, Mis Hartshorn, 
ye must ’xcuse us fur sech’n oversight,” sez 
he ; “ ye see there is so many folks here that 
we don’t git all ther names soon’s they come ; 
but I’ll see that your name is in the next 
paper, ceytin.” “ Don’t put yerself ter any 
trouble ’bout it, fur ’tain’t no consequence any 
way,” sez I, seein’ he was so perlite. “ I jest 
tho’t mebbe ye’d better menshun it, so’s any- 
body’d know where I was in case they sh’d be 
lookin’ fur me.” “ Certingly,” sez he, “that 
is what a paper is fur — ter giv’ infurmashun ter 
ev’rybody.” “ So ’tis,” sez I, “ an’ there can’t 
nobody say ye don’t do 3rer dooty in that ; 
but it beats me how ye ever manige ter find 
out so much. Must keep ye runnin’ ’round 
all the time.” “ Oh !” sez he, smilin’, “ I don’t 
do it all ; I hev a good many ter help me, an’ 
that makes it easier.” Then I sed I’d alers 
bin wonderful cur’us ter know how papers 
was printed, an’ so he took me ’long inter an- 
uther room where there was a good many 
men settin’ tipe, as he called it, an’ ’xplained 
it all ter me as kind as if I’d bin a relative o’ 
his; an’ he didn’t act as tho’ he tho’t he’d orter 
be paid fur it, neither which is more’n I kin 


Nancy Harts hor 71 at Chautauqua. 123 

say o’ folks gin’rally. I couldn’t fur the life 
o’ me see how ’twas done, but ’twouldn’t a 
bin usin’ him very well ter say so arter all the 
trouble he’d bin ter, ter tell me ; an’ so when 
I seen all there was ter see, an’ there wasn’t 
no ’xcuse fur me ter stay any longer, I told 
him I was much ’bleeged ter him fur makin’ 
it plain ter me, an’ then I sed “ Good-mornin’ ” 
agin, an’ went ’way thinkin’ if ev’rybody took 
as much pains ter be pleasant ter folks ’twould 
be a sight more comfort’ble gittin’ ’long. The 
next thing I was set on seein’ was Noer’s Ark, 
as they called it in the paper. I was intendin’ 
ter ask the editer ’bout it but hed furgot ter, 
an’ I was drefful sorry, fur I tho’t likely he 
could tell me more’n anybody else. I couldn’t 
think how in the wurld they’d got it there, 
fur I hedn’t no idee it hed bin presarved till 
this time ; but I was beginnin’ ter think there 
wasn’t nuthin’ that Docter Vinson couldn’t 
do, an’ I didn’t know but he’d found it sum- 
wherc when he was trav’lin’ ’round an’ hed 
bro’t it thereKter show ter folks. The paper 
hedn’t sed where they kep’ it, but I tho’t 
prob’ble T could find out ter the intelligunce 
offis, so I started fur there. ’Fore I got 
there I met a man walkin’ ’long slow an’ 
lookin’ as tho’ he’d jest lives answer any 
questyuns as not, so I made bold ter say ter 
him, 


124 Nancy Hartshorn at Chantauqua. 


“ Kin ye tell me where I kin find Noer’s 
Ark ?” 

“ Noer’s Ark?” sez he, as if he didn’t know 
what I meant ; an’ then he laffed an’ sez, “ Oh, 
yes, it’s close by here,” an’ he went a few steps 
from where we was an’ pinted it out ter me. 

“That it?” sez I, “ 1 don’t see nuthin’ like 
an ark ’bout that.^ I s’posed they’d got the 
rale ark 4:hat‘ Noer built here, but that ain’t 
nothin’ but a big tent.” “ I gess they couldn’t 
git that here so they hed ter put this up’n 
place of it,” sez he. “Then I don’t see what 
bisness they’ve got ter call it Noer’s Ark,” 
sez I, speakin’ ruther sharp, fur I wasn’t goin’ 
ter be imposed on that way ’thout givin’ my 
’pinyun ’bout it. “ Wy, it’s like Noer’s Ark,” 
sez he, “ ’cause there couldn’t nobody git 
inter that ’thout they was ’nvited, an’ it’s jest 
so with this one ; all the diff’runce is, that was 
Noer’s an’ this is Docter Vinson’s.” 

“ Who’s he goin’ ter put in there?” sez I. 

“ Oh, all them that’s ter lecter or preach 
in the meetin’s,” sez he;“ he’d got ter hev 
sum place ter keep ’em so he hed that made 
fur ’em.” “ Why didn’t he let ’em go ter that 

big hotell ?” sez I. 

“ Wy,” sez he, “ye see them fellers git so 
ust ter makin’ a good deal o’ noise when 
they’re ’wake that they furgit ter stop when 
they go ter sleep, an’ keep right on, an’ if they 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 125 


was in the hotell there couldn’t nobod}^ else 
sleep a wink, so he hed ter put ’em off here 
where they wouldn’t ’sturb anybody.” ‘‘ I 
should think they’d ’sturb ’emselves,” sez I. 

There ain’t no danger o’ that,” sez he, “fur 
they’re all tryin’ ter see who kin make the 
most noise all the time, an’ it makes ’em work 
’bout as hard nights as they do in the day 
time.” I sed I’d like ter see what sort o’ 
place ’twas inside, an’ axed him if I could go 
in. He sed there wouldn’t be no harm if I 
did, so when I’d thanked him fur tellin’ me 
’bout it I walked dong an’ went in. There 
didn’t ’pear ter be nobody ter home, so I didn’t 
feel anyways compuncshus ’bout lookin’ ’round. 

There was a middlin’ sized room that I furst 
went inter that looked like a settin-room, an’ 
the rest was all cut up inter leetle rooms, jest 
big ’nough fur a bed an’ a stand an’ a few 
other things, but ev’rything looked rale tidy 
an’ comfert’ble. There was a woman settin’ in 
one of ’em an’ ’ritin’. I didn’t see her till I’d 
stepped in, an’she didn’t hear me till she see 
me, so we was both of us took a good deal by 
s’prise, an’ I gess she was most scairt ter death, 
fur she jest set an’ looked at me as if she 
couldn’t say nuthin’. She was dressed butiful, 
an’ hed a rale inersent face, an’ I tho’t mebbe 
she b’longed ter sum o’ the tribes that was in 
the ark, so I sez. 


126 Nancy Hartshorn at Cha^itauqna. 


“ Don’t be ’feerd, dear, I was only lookin’ 
round a leetle, ter see what sort o’ place 
)^e’ve got ter stay in. I heerd this is where 
Docter Vinson keeps the lions an’ bears, an’ 
all them that’s ter be saved, in case anything 
sh’d happ’n while the ’sembly’s here. Be 
you one of ’em ?” She looked as tho’ she 
tho’t certin I was sum crazy lunytic, an’ 
fin’lly she sez, I’m sure I can’t think what 
you mean.” 

Don’t try ter, then, honey,” sez I ; “ye 
don’t look as if ye was ust ter hard work, 
anyhow. Ye jest go on with yer ’ritin’, an’ 
I’ll go right away an’ won’t bother ye any 
more,” an’ with that I left her ter git her 
wits tergether agin. (I feel sorry ev’ry time 
I think of it yit, ter hev giv’ her sech a start.) 
Wal, when I’d bin all throu’ it, an’ seen how 
home-like it looked, I made up my mind 
’twas a rale nice ark ter stay in, an’ I couldn’t 
help wishin’ I was sumbody uncommon or 
b’longed ter somebody that was, so’s I could 
bin ’nvited ter stop there. I don’t ’xpect 
Noer had things fixed up any where near so 
nice fur his folks, an’ I kal’late he’d bin a good 
deal set back if he could a seen that. ’Twas 
gittin’ ’long towards noon now. I see I’d hev 
ter put off goin’ ter any more places ; but 
there was one thing I sed ter myself I ivould 
do, an’ that was ter go an’ sec Docter Vin- 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautatiqua. 127 


son an' git ’cquainted with him. I s’pose 
there’s them that’ll think it strange I should, 
seein’ I was so set aginst him, but I wasn’t 
goin’ ter let that stand in the way. I didn’t 
want ter hev it ter say when I got home 
that I’d been there all the time an’ hedn’t 
spoke ter him. I reck’n 1 know ’nough ’bout 
what good manners is ter know that it ain’t 
very proper ter go ter a party an’ not speak 
ter the one that invited ye, an’ I alers make 
it a pint ter be perlite ter folks, ev’n if I don’t 
like ’em much. I’d heerd ’em say he hed an’ 
offis back o’ the ampletheter, where anybody 
could go an’ see him if they wanted ter, so 
I tho’t I’d go ’round back that way an’ giv’ 
him a call. When I got there I most wished 
I hedn’t come, fur my currige was oozin’ 
out o’ me as fast as if I’d bin walkin’ up ter a 
loaded cannun, an’ I stood an’ waited a spell 
ter pick up a leetle; but my heart was thumpin’ 
so hard I was ’feerd he’d think ’twas sum- 
body knockin’, so I walked ’way a bit ter 
git more settl’d. When I come back I felt 
more like goin’ in, but just then a man op’ned 
the door ter come out an’ I ketched a glimps 
o’ sev’ril men in there, an’ then I backed off 
agin, an’ I couldn’t git myself ter say I’d go, 
all I could do. I tho’t mebbe he wouldn’t 
be glad ter see me, an’ I shouldn’t know what 
ter say ’fore all them men, an’ like as not 


128 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautatiqita, 


’twould be a good deal imbarrassin’. Then 
I happ’ned ter think what if he should ax me 
ter jine them C. L. S. C.’s, an’ what should I 
say, an’ that was ’nough. Manners or no man- 
ners I wasn’t goin’ ter git myself inter any 
sech fix as that, an’ I walked off a sight 
faster’n there was any need of, seein’ there 
wasn’t anybody arter me. Mandy got home 
pritty soon arter I did, an’ she wanted ter 
know if I’d got rested any. I sed I hed, but 
I didn’t go inter pertic’lers, an’ she don’t 
know ter this day but what I was sleepin’ 
all that mornin’. While I was thinkin’ whether 
I’d better go out sight-seein’ agin that arter- 
noon she sed there was a lady there that hed 
bin ’ritin’ a story an’ she was goin’ ter read 
sum of it ter ’em that arternoon in the ample- 
theter, an’ I tho’t I’d like ter go an’ see her ; 
tho’ as ter bearin’ a story, I could read all o’ 
’em I wanted ter, ’thout goin’ fur ter hear 
’em. It didn’t make no diff’runce what ’twas, 
folks didn’t never seem ter git tired goin’, an’ 
that ampletheter was full ev’ry time there 
was anything goin’ on. When Miss Pansie 
(fur that was her name) come out ter read 
her story I was so set back I didn’t know 
what ter do, fur I tho’t certin ’twas the lady 
I’d seen in the ark that mornin’; but I don’t 
think ’twas, fur this one was more — I don’t 
know what ter call it, but I gess it’s self-pos- 


Nancy Hartshor 7 i at Chatttauqua. 129 


sessed’n that one was, an’ wouldn’t a bin so 
easy upset. I liked her story pritty well, — 
or ruther I liked it when 1 red it in the paper 
arterwards, fur I didn’t hear much of it then. 
O’ course ’twas ’bout them C. L. S. C.’s, — 
’twouldn’t a bin a Chetauquy story ’nless 
’twas. I didn’t ralely find out what they was 
till I red it ; but when I heerd her readin’ that 
day I got out o’ pashunce, an’ I sez ter 
Marier (she’d come ’long with us), “ Fact is 
I’m gittin’ C. L. S. C. ’d ter death. There 
ain’t nothin’ else ter be heerd of here. I mean 
ter put a book under my arm an’ stick a pen- 
sil up over my ear ev’ry time I stir out arter 
this, fur I shan’t git no ’tenshun paid ter me 
till 1 do.” “ I gess ye’ll hev ter do sumthin’ 
more’n that if yer goin’ ter be one of ’em,” 
sez she, laffin’. “ T s’pose it’s sumthin’ pritty 
fine,” sez I; “but I ain’t heerd that anybody’s 
gittin’ rich at it, an’ I can’t se,e as it’s goin’ ter 
help ’em any ’bout gittin’ ther bread’n but- 
ter. Sumbody’s got ter do that fur ’em while 
they’re bein’ edicated up so fine, fur it’s plain 
they hevn’t any time ter ’tend ter sech things, 
an’ it might as well be me as anybody else. 
Butterflies is good ter look at, but they ain’t 
good fur much fur grubbin’, an’ the grubbin’ 
has ter be done sumhow.” “ I don’t ’xpect 
they’d like it ter be called butterflies,” sez 
she. “ I don’t see’s it’s out o’ the way any,” 


130 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


sez I ; ‘‘ butterflies ain’t nothin’ but common 
caterpillers till they’re hatched out inter 
sumthin’ else. If I don’t make no complaint 
’cause I alers ’xpect ter be a caterpiller I’m 
sure they needn’t at bein’ took fur butterflies ; 
tho’ I’m free ter say, I’m ’feerd it’ll take a 
long time fur sum of ’em ter hatch out.” Jest 
then sum folks that was settin’ in front o’ us 
turned ’round an’ scowled at me ’cause I was 
talkin’ so much, so I didn’t say nothin’ more. 
I don’t know but ’twas the way she red it, but 
sumhow I couldn’t help thinkin’ it must be 
drefful easy ter ’rite a story while Miss Pansie 
was readin’ hers, an’ I wonder’d why more 
folks doesn’t ’rite ’em ’n does. I tho’t if I’d bin 
’bout twenty year younger, an’ was as edi- 
cated as folks is now-days, I sh’d a tried a 
hand at it, an’ I was ’most a mind ter as ’twas : 
but it takes a sight o’ lamin’ ter string things 
tergether so’s ter make a book or a lecter, 
an’ I ain’t no idee I could do it. That 
evenin’ I was readin’ in the paper what there 
was goin’ ter be nex’ day. The furst thing in 
the mornin’ was the airly lecter ; but when I 
went ter read what ’twas ’bout I couldn’t a 
done it ter save me. When I’d tried sev’ril 
times I giv’ it up an’ axed Mandy if she could, 
an’ she red — “ Divine Nescience of Future 
Contingencies a Necessity.” (I got the 
paper arterwards an’ ’rote it down jest as 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 1 3 1 


’tAvas there, so I know I ain’t mistak’n 
’bout it.) 

.“What in all nater is that?” sez I. “I’m 
sure I can’t tell,” sez she, “ but I gess it’s 
sumthin’ ’bout futer punishment.” “Wal,” 
sez 1, “ the man that knows ’nough ter pile 
up all them words an’ then tell what they 
mean is wuth seein’. I jest think I’ll go ter 
that lecter.” I hedn’t felt like goin’ ter any 
o’ the airly lecters ’fore, but I wouldn’t a 
missed that fur nothin’ ; an’ the next mornin’ 
I didn’t mor’n haf eat my breakfust fur fear 
iVouldn’t git there in time. Mandy wouldn’t 
go, fur she sed she didn’t b’lieve in futer pun- 
ishment an’ didn’t want ter hear ’bout it ; but 
I told her I wasn’t so big’ted that I wouldn’t 
go ter hear anybody if they didn’t b’lieve jest 
as I did, an’ I went off an’ left her takin’ down 
her frizzles. _ 


CHAPTER IX. 

‘‘THE AIRLY LECTER.” 

I GESS there was a good many that over- 
slept ’emselves that morning fur I don’t know 
what else could hev kep’ ’em away if they 
was as cur’us as I was. ’Twas ruther a slim 
meetin’ as ter numbers, an’ they was mostly 
men at that, but prob’ble the reason was that 
the wimmin was ter home doin’ up the break- 
fust things. I ain’t no dout they would hev 
injoy ed it as much as the men did if they 
could a gone. I’m certin ’t wasn’t ’cause I 
didn’t pay ’nough ’tenshun ter that lecter, fur 
I stretcht my ears till they acked try in’ ter 
git hold of it ; but when I’d bin lis’nin’ fifteen 
minits or so I couldn’t a told, if I’d bin goin’ 
ter be hung the nex’ minit, what he was drivin’ 
at. I couldn’t see as it hed anything ter do 
Avith futer punishment or anything else, an’ 
arter a while I got diskurriged an’ giv’ up 
tryin’ ter find out. I looked ’round ter see 
how the rest was makin’ out, an’ I see a good 
many that looked as if they was as much in 
the dark as I was. Sum o’ them docters an’ 
perfessers an’ preachers, likely, could foller 
him, but ’twas clear they was hevin’ ter work 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 133 


pritty hard ter do it. Bime by I sez ter a man 
that was settin’ next ter me, “ Kin ye tell me 
what he’s talkin’ ’bout?” He looked ’round 
an’ smiled, an’ then sez he, “ I gess he’s talkin’ 
metyfizics.” “ What kind o’ fizic is that ?’’ 
sez I, an’ at that he went ter laffin’ as if he’d 
shake himself ter peices. I didn’t know what 
there was improper in my axin’, seein’ he’d 
called it that, an’ it sort o’ frustrated me ter 
hev him laff so. When he got so’s he could 
speak he sez, It’s when a man’s talkin’ ’bout 
sumthin’ he don’t understand an’ don’t mean 
anybody else shall.” “ ’Pears ter me there’s 
a deal of it bein’ dealed out here,” sez I. 
“ I shouldn’t wonder if that’s what makes it 
so onhealthy.” 

Then he went off ter lafhn’ agin. 

When he got sobered down I sez, “ I don’t 
know much ’bout metyfizics, as ye call it, but 
it’s my ’pinyun there’s lots that don’t keer 
nothin’ ’bout what he’s sayin’, an’ would a na- 
shun sight ruther he’d talk ’bout sumthin’ they 
could understand. I’d ruther hear a strait- 
for’ard gospel sarmun on keepin’ the com- 
mandmunts an’ doin’ what the Scripters teach 
’n all the metyfizics there is ter Chetauquy.” 

Well, when I preach I’ll try an’ make it a 
gospil sarmun fur ye,” sez he, smilin’, an’ that 
shet me up, fur I tho’t like as not I’d bin 
talkin’ ter one o’ them docters that was ter 


134 Ncmcy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


preach there, an I was mortyfyed ’most ter 
death ter think I’d spoke so plain. I couldn’t 
a got int’rested in that lecter then, anyway, 
an’ there wasn’t no use in stayin’ ; so soon’s I 
could ’thout anybody’s obsarvin’ me I slipped 
out an’ started fur home. When I got ’long 
ter the ampletheter (I sh’d sed the lecter was 
held in the Hall o’ Filosofy) they was hevin’ 
a meetin’ there fur the childern, an’ I stopped 
ter see what they was doin’ ; an’ when I’d bin 
there a few minits I was sorry I hedn’t 
gone there in the furst place, fur there was a 
good deal ter be learnt there, ev’n fur grown 
up folks. Docter Vinson was talkin’ ter ’em, 
an’ ’twas plain he’d jest got them childern by 
the ears, so ter speak, an’ he didn’t let go till 
he’d give ’em sumthin’ ter think of fur a good 
while. 

There wasn’t nobody could say he didn’t 
know how ter talk ter childern if he was hard 
on the C. L. S. C’s. When he got thru’ there 
was a man (I furgit his name) went ter talkin’ 
an’ drawin’ picters on a blackboard, an’ it beat 
all nater ter see what a drawer he was. ’Feared 
as if he didn’t hev ter only fix his mind on 
it an’ ’twas Avonderful what things he’d make 
ter show ’em what he was talkin’ ’bout. I 
tho’t while I set there if I’d hed so many helps 
’bout lamin’ when I was young I might hev 
knowed consider’ble more’n I do. I could 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chatctauqua. 135 


hev staid ’n hour longer easy, but they hed ter 
stop ter giv’ place ter the next meetin’. 
They’d ’ranged fur so many that day they 
could hardly git ’em all in, an’ if I’d gone ter 
all of ’em I don’t ’xpect I’d be livin’ now ter 
tell it, fur I couldn’t go ter more’n two or 
three a day ’thout feelin’ clean tuckered out ; 
’twas s’prisin’ ter me how other folks stood it 
ter go ter ev’rything so. I don’t s’pose I sh’d 
a minded it so much if I’d alers felt paid fur 
goin’, but I can’t say that I did ev’ry time. 
Like ’nough some’ll say I wasn’t cap’ble o’ 
jedgin’, but it don’t take much edicashun ter 
tell if a body likes a thing. Now the lecter that 
evenin’ was jest ter my mind — “ Studies inter 
human nater” I think they called it — an’ ’twas 
clear that man hed bin studyin’ it ter sum 
’count, fur he knowed how ter say what he 
hed ter in a way that was pleasin’ ter folks, 
an’ so it didn’t take him long ter git on ev’ry. 
body’s right side. He giv’ sev’ril lecters 
while he was there, an’ ’cordin’ ter my think 
in’ there wasn’t nothin’ more edyfyin’. I 
don’t know what church he b’longed ter, but 
from a way he hed o’ bringin’ up sumwhere 
where ye wasn’t ’xpectin’ he would I sh’d a 
took him ter be a Methodis’. There was one 
thing that struck me as bein’ jest as it should 
be, an’ that was that ’twasn’t ever giv’ out when 
a man was ter lecter what church he b’longed 


136 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


ter, so there couldn’t anybody git prejudiced 
aginst ’em ’forehand. Then agin ’twas as if 
the melenium hed come, ter see how peace’ble 
all them ’nominashuns got ’long tergether. I 
heerd there was as much as a duz’n diff ’runt 
ones there, but ye wouldn’t a knowed but what 
they all b’longed ter one church ter see ’em 
tergether. There wasn’t no quarr’lin’ or dis- 
cussin’ doctrinal pints, but that didn’t prevent 
’em from crackin’ pritty sharp jokes on each 
other when they hed a chance. They’d hold 
conf’rence meetin’s by ’emselves sumtimes, 
an’ ’twas a good deal int’restin’ ter go ’round 
an’ find out how the diff ’runt churches was 
gittin’ ’long. 

The nex’ day, when I was readin’ in the 
paper where they was ter hold ther meetin’s, 
I sez ter Mandy, “I don’t know’s I know 
what these Congregashunists air that they’re 
talkin’ so much ’bout. Be they an orthydox 
church ?” “ Oh, yes,” sez she, “ I gess they 

ain’t much diff’runt from Presbiteryns.” 
“ Wal,” sez I, I’ve heerd a>good deal of ’em, 
but 1 ain’t ever heerd what ther doctrins is, 
an’ 1 b’lieve I’ll go ter ther meetin’ this arter- 
noon an’ find out what I kin ’bout ’em.” 
Then I went ter lookin’ over the names o’ 
folks that was there ter see if that editer hed 
r’membered ter put mine in’, an’ sure ’nough 
there ’twas, all printed out as nateral as life. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 137 


I hedn’t ever seen myself in print 'fore, an’ 
I must say I liked my looks oncommon 
well. It struck me that Hartshorn was a 
pritty high-soundin’ name ’longside o’ sum 
there was there, an’ I couldn’t be thankful 
’nough that my name wasn’t Smith or Jones, 
or sumthin’ like ’em that ain’t noways ’rister- 
cratic. (I don’t c’nsider it’s anything ter be 
’shamed off, if I did cut it out o’ the paper 
an’ put it in my pocket-book ter hev it ter 
look at in futer.) 

But I set out ter tell ’bout that Congre- 
gashunist meetin’. I was ruther set back 
when I went ter the place where they was to 
hold it ter find so many of ’em there. When 
they come ter count ’em they found there 
was nineteen diff’runt States repersented, 
which was sayin’ a good deal, considerin’ 
that ’twasn’t such a great while ago that 
there wasn’t much known of ’em. I hed no 
idee they was flourishin’ so, an’ I didn’t know 
what ter make of it ; but when that Docter 
red his paper — tellin’ what they was, an’ what 
they b’lieved— it took me clean off my 
standin’, so ter speak. I ’low I was ruther 
prejudiced agin ’em on the start, fur I couldn’t 
help feelin’ that they wasn’t quite orthydox ; 
but when he’d been talkin’ a spell I see I’d 
misjedged ’em; they was orthydox ’nough, 
tho’ they didn’t seem ter be o’ the same mind 


138 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


as any other church on all pints, an’ I 
couldn’t tell fur the life o’ me where ter 
place ’em. There wasn’t noise ’nough in ’em 
fur Methodis’, nur close communyun ’nough 
fur Baptis’ ; they wasn’t strict ’nough fur 
Presbiteryns, an’ they was too strict fur Uny- 
taryns, an’ they hedn’t prayer books ’nough 
fur ’Piscopals, an’ ’twasn’t easy findin’ out 
where they did b’long. The more he sed the 
more I got ter understandin’ ’em better, an’ 
when he was throu’, as true as Pm livin’ Pd 
found out that Pd bin a Congregashunist all 
my life ’thou’t knowin’ it ! ’Peared he’d got 
hold o’ my vews on most pints, sumhow, an’ 
fixed ’em up so I didn’t know ’em at furst ; 
but when it ralely did come ter me that they 
was the same way o’ thinkin’ as I was, I de- 
clare I was drefful upset. ’Twas like bein’ 
took up in the body out o’ my own home an’ 
set down in a strange house, an’ I wasn t 
well ’nough ’quainted there yit ter know 
whether I liked it or not ; but I see Pd hev 
ter rekonsile myself ter it, fur sence they was 
the only church that ’greed with my feelin’s 
’twas plain ’twas my dooty ter jine ’em. I did 
a good deal o’ thinkin’ fur the next two or 
three hour. I hed my douts ’bout bringin’ 
the Deacon ’round, fur we ain’t neither of 
us ust ter givin’ in when we’ve got our 
minds made up. 1 was morally certin he 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 139 


wouldn’t ’prove o’ mygoin’ an’ jinin’ anuther 
church, an’ it worrid me ’most ter death 
thinkin’ how I could ’range it. I come pritty 
near wishin’ I’d never found out what I was, 
till I happ’ned ter think there wasn’t no Con- 
gregashunist church at the Corners, so I 
couldn’t jine ’em anyhow. Then I sed ter 
m3"self. I’d hev ter be one in spirrit if I 
wasn’t by name, an’ hevin’ got that load off 
my mind I felt ’mazin’ r’lieved. I s’pose I’d 
orter ter say sumthin’ ’bout the consert that 
evenin’, but I don’t hardly know what ter 
say. I ain’t never bin ter them things much, 
an’ ’twould be nothin’ strange if I was out 
o’ my reck’nin’ sum in tryin’ ter tell ’bout 
’em. Everybody sed ’twas “splendid,” an’ 
like ’nough ’twas, but I’ve found folks don’t 
alers ’gree ’bout how splendid things is, an’ 
I don’t know no other way ’n ter tell it as 
it struck me an’ let ’em deside fur ’emselves. 
(I feel more free ter say what I think, ’cause 
I don’t ’xpect ter git any pay fur puffin’ 
anybody, an’ that ain’t the case off’n when 
folks is ’ritin’ ’bout sech things.) There was 
sum things I liked, an’ sum I didn’t. I liked 
the band playin’, fur it beat all the 4th o’ 
Julys an’ trainin’ days I ever did see. It 
sounded fur all the wurld as tho’ the Dec- 
lerashun o’ Indypendunce, an’ Hale Kolumby, 
an’ Cornashun, an’ the Doxol’gy, an’ lots more 


140 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


hed all bin shook up tergether an’ set ter 
musick, an’ there they was bio win’ it out o’ 
them horns as easy as if ’twas soap bub- 
bles. 

I liked them jubylee singers too, ’cause 
they didn’t ’pear ter keer so much fur showin’ 
off their voices as they did fur makin’ folks 
understand what they was singin’ ’bout. ’T was 
clear ev’rybody else liked ’em too, fur ev’ry 
time they sung, they’d call ’em back agin, as 
if they’d ruther hear ’em ’n anybody else. 
I s’pose there was them there that hed spent 
’most ther lives an’ heaps of money tryin’ ter 
larn how ter sing, an’ it must a bin ruther 
mortyfyin’ ter hev the shine all took off of ’em 
by some black folks. Then there was sum 
singin’ by the korus, as they called it, an’ I 
didn’t know whether I liked it or not. I 
’low ther singin’ was well ’nough if they 
hedn’t acted so, but ’twas ’stonishin’ how 
they did carry on ; an’ I sh’d a tho’t the man 
that was leadin’ ’em would a bin rale vexed 
at ’em fur behavin’ so ’fore folks. Furst, 
part of ’em would start off ter sing ’fore 
the rest was ready, an’ when they see 
they was left behind they’d begin an’ go 
chasin’ arter the others like all-possest. 
Dime by they’d ketch up with ’em, an’ then 
they’d all stop ter git breath. Then sum 
man would git in a hurry an’ start off ’lone. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 14 1 


an’ the rest would pick it up an’ go arter 
him agin. He’d manige ter keep out o’ ther 
reach fur awhile, an’ then he’d let ’em come 
up with him ; then, like as not, jest as they 
got stiddy wunce more sum woman would 
go caperin’ off an’ set ’em all wild agin 
scamperin’ arter her. I got so ’xcited watchin’ 
ter see who was cornin’ out ahead that I fur- 
got where I was ; an’ riz up in my seat so’s 
ter see ’em better, but Mandy pulled me 
down, so 1 see I’d done sumthin’ out o’ 
the way. She an’ Marier was laffin’, an’ I 
wouldn’t say nothin’ ter ’em ; but I hed my 
’pinyun ’bout sech doin’s, fur all that. (I’ve 
bin readin’ over my ’count of it, an’ I’m ’feerd 
I ain’t giv’ a very good idee o’ the way they 
did, but I can’t do no better.) There was sum 
pritty nice singers ’mong ’em, an’ sumtimes 
two or three would come out an’ sing ’lone. 
I gess prob’ble I sh’d a liked ther singin’ 
if they’d sung Inglish, but I ain’t never stud- 
did the langwidges any so I couldn’t tell 
what they was singin’ ’bout. When we was 
goin’ home Marier axed me how I liked the 
consert, an’ I sed,“ Leavin’ out the band play- 
in’ an’ the jubylee singers, I tho’t with a prop’r 
’mount o’ trainin’ the rest of ’em might git 
ter be good singers arter a while, but they’d 
hev ter sow sum o’ ther wild oats furst.” I 
s pose she tho’t I’d go inter rapters over it, 


142 .Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


but I gess she found out I knew ’nough ter 
know what was proper. 

That night there come up the awfulest 
thunder storm that ’bout ever was. Now I 
alers was drefful ’feerd o’ thunder an’ light- 
nin’. There’s sumthin’ so onairthly ’bout it 
that it jest takes ’way all my forty tood an’ I 
ain’t good fur nothin’. I couldn’t a bin ter 
sleep long when it begun, an’ I gess the furst 
clap o’ thunder woke me up. There wasn’t 
no sech thing as sleepin’ then, fur ’twas furst 
a flash an’ then a crash, an’ I ’xpected nothin’ 
but what I’d get struck right there in my bed. 
I tho’t if I was ’twould be a jedgment sent on 
me fur cornin’ ter Chetauquy when I was 
well ’nough off ter home; an’ I lay there tremb- 
lin’ so I shook my front teeth out (they’re 
false ones, tho’, so that wasn’t nothin’ strange) 
an’ wonderin’ what would become o’ the 
Deacon if I should be took ’way suddin. I 
never tho’t o’ so many things all in a few 
minits ’fore in my life as I did ’twixt them 
thunder claps. I tho’t I wouldn’t say nuthin’ 
ter Mandy if I could help it, fur I knowed 
she was ’most scairt ter death by the way 
she’d start ev’ry time they’d come. ’Twas 
rainin’ pitchforks, an’ pritty soon 1 heerd 
sumthin’ droppin’ an’ droppin’, an’ in a minit 
there come a big drop right on my nose. 
’Fore I could speak Mandy sez, “Oh! Mis 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 143 

Hartshorn, the tent is leakin’ an’ the water is 
cornin’ down on the bed like ev’rything.” I’d 
bin thinkin’ ’bout gittin’ out o’ there ’fore she 
spoke, but I shouldn’t wonder if 1 got out a 
leetle sooner when she sed that; but when I 



JEST THEN THERE COME A FLASH O’ LIGHTNIN’. 


stepped my feet on the floor I stepped ’em 
inter the water much as a foot deep (I won’t 
say fur certin ’twas quite as deep as that, but I 
tho’t so then, anyhow). Jest then there come 
a flash o’ lightnin’ an’ a clap o’ thunder all ter- 


144 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


gather that was ’nough ter make anybody’s 
hair stand strait up. The Lord hev mercy 
on us ! It’s bad ’nough ter be drownded ’thout 
bein’ killed by lightnin’ too,” sez I, duckin’ 
my head under the bed clothes. When it died 
’way agin I lifted ’em up a leetle so’s ter 
smell if there was anything like brimstun 
’round there. Not smellin’ any I took kur- 
rige ter onkiver my head, an’ sez I, “ If I 
could git there I sh’d go right strait ter the 
Ark, fur I know now what it’s here fur. It’s 
my ’pinyun Docter Vinson knowed all the 
time there was anuther delluge cornin’, an’ he 
went an’ hed that built so’s them that was in 
it could go sailin’ ’round on top the water 
while the rest of us was bein’ drounded. I 
think it’s jest a burnin’ shame he didn’t tell 
folks (as Noer did) what was cornin’, so they 
could git ready fur it.” 

“ I don’t b’lieve he knowed anything ’bout 
it,” sez she. “ I shouldn’t be s’prised if they 
was gittin’ a soakin’ too.” “ I sh’d feel better 
if I tho’t they was,” sez I ; “it don’t foller 
that they’re better’n anybody else ’cause 
they’ve got in there, an’ I hope they’ll git 
treated jest the same as the rest.” By that 
time it begun ter let up a leetle, an’ I tho’t I’d 
be safe in gittin’ up an’ findin’ out whether 
there was any dry land ’round there ; but I 
hedn’t more’n got outer my feet ’fore there 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 145 


come anuther clap, an’ if the hull creashun 
hed broke loose it couldn’t a made more 
’sturbance. (I ’xpect Mandy’ll alers stick ter 
it that I made a bigger noise’n that thunder 
did jest ’cause I sed “ Heav’ns an’ airth !” 
pritty loud an’ jumped back inter bed agin, 
but if she’s a mind ter tell sech onlikely stories 
she kin. Her ’pinyun ain’t wuth mindin’ 
anyway.) I gess it wore itself out on that 
one fur there wasn’t any more of any ’count, 
but money couldn’t a hired me ter ’tempt it 
agin. I’d hed sech a shakin’ up that I didn’t 
sleep much the rest o’ the night, but I was so 
thankful that my life hed bin spared I didn’t 
mind bein’ kept ’wake, considerin’ what’ii 
’scape I’d hed ; I ’lowed if I ever lived ter git 
home I’d never resk myself in sech a place 
agin as long as I lived. When mornin’ come 
we found we’d hed a soakin’, sure ’nough. 
Ev’ry thing was wet throu’ that could be, an’ 
the vittles we hed wasn’t fit ter eat. But I 
felt the wurst ’bout my best bunnit. I’d hung 
it up where I tho’t ’twould be safe, but that 
thunder storm hed maniged ter find it an’ 
’twas a sight ter see. I spent ’most all that 
day fussin’ with it an’ tryin’ ter straiten it 
up sum, but I couldn’t make it look as it did. 
Mandy sed I missed a good deal by not goin’ 
ter the lecter that mornin’, “fur ’twas jest 
splendid.” “What was it ’bout?” sez I. 


146 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


'‘The weak places in Ingers'lizm was what 
the paper called it,” sez she. “ What is In- 
gers’lizm I sh’d like ter know?” sez I. “ Wy, 
ain’t ye ever heerd o’ Mr. Ingers’l?” she axed. 
“ Is he that feller that sez he don’t b’lieve in 
God nor anything?” sez I. “Yes, he’s the 
one,” sez she. “An’ so they call it Inger 
s’lizm, do they? Jest as if he was the furst 
man who ever tho’t o’ sech a thing!” sez I. 
“ I shouldn’t wonder if there was a good deal 
o’ that talk ’way back in Noer’s time, only 
they didn’t call it by that name then. I don’t 
see what they’re makin’ sech a fuss over him 
fur, anybody kin see he’s got weak places 
’nough ’thout sumbody’s spendin’ time ter 
pint ’em out. He ain’t wuth mindin’, fur it’s 
more’n prob’ble he’s got drefful disappinted 
sumtime, an’ that’s why he don’t b’lieve in 
anything. Off’ntimes when men gits ther 
hearts set on a woman an’ can’t get her it’s 
the ruinashun of ’em, poor things ! It’s my 
’pinyun he’s more desarvin’ o’ simpathy’n 
anything else, fur a man’s got ter feel pritty 
bad ter come ter sech a pint as that.” “ Do 
you think that’s what’s the matter with 
him?” sez she, lookin’ a good deal s’prised. “ I 
don’t know, but ’twouldn’t be ’tall strange if 
’twas,” sez I. “ Then I wish that man hed a 
knowed it, fur he didn’t giv’ him a very good 
settin’ out in his lecter,” sez she. “ ’Tain’t 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 147 


alers best ter be too hard on folks till ye know 
what’s made ’em so,” sez I ; “ I don’t know 
what I might a bin if I’d hed a terr’ble trouble 
sum time.” My narves hed bin upset so by 
that thunder storm that I didn’t feel like 
goin’ anywhere, but Mandy set in that I must 
go an’ see the ’luminashuns in the evenin’, an’ 
I sh’ll alers be glad I did, fur if I hedn’t seen 
nothin’ else all the time I was ter Chetauquy 
I sh’d felt paid fur goin’ there; but when it 
comes ter tellin’ ’bout ’em I’m down agin, fur 
there’s sum things that can’t be ’rote out on 
paper an’ that was one of ’em; but I ’xpect them 
that wasn’t there’ll want ter know sumthin’ 
’bout it so I’ll try an’ tell ’em. I don’t know 
as anybody knowed jest what ’twas goin’ ter 
be, only they was all ’xpectin’ sumthin’ pritty 
nice, an’ they begun goin’ down ter the land- 
in’ long ’fore ’twas dark, an’ in a short spell 
there was sech a crowd all ’long the shore 
that there wasn’t much standin’ room left. 
Sum of ’em must a stood two or three hour, 
fur they didn’t begin ther ’xercises (I don’t 
know what else ter call ’em) till ’twas con- 
sider’ble late, an’ I gess ’twas gittin’ towards 
midnight ’fore they got throu’ ; but I kal’late 
they’d all staid till the last thing, if they’d bin 
’xpectin’ ter drop the next minit. 

Fur awhile there wasn’t nothin’ ter be seen 
but lots o’ little boats flyin’ ’round with 


148 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


torches fixed on ter ’em. If they’d all bin 
goin’ in a strait line ’twould a looked a good 
deal like them torchlight perceshuns they 
hev so much now-a-days, but they went scud- 
din’ ’cross, an’ up an’ down, an’ ev’ry which 
way, so’s there wasn’t no makin’ anything out 
of ’em only ter say they looked rale pritty. But 
when it hed got as dark as ’twas goin’ ter 
them big boats come puffin’ up the lake, one 
arter anuther, all lit up from one end ter 
tuther with colored lanterns, an’ a grander 
sight nobody ever see. ’Feared as if each 
one hed tried ter outdo all the rest in ther 
’luminashuns, fur ev’ry one seemed ter look 
more butiful than the one ’fore it; an’ ’t wasn’t 
no wonder that as fast as they come in sight 
that hull ’sembly cheered ’nough ter split ther 
— it’s throat, ter speak properly. When 
they’d all got there they ’‘ranged ’emselves 
’long in front o’ the landin’ so’s folks could 
see ’em, an’ then ev’rybody went ter sayin’ 
which they tho’t looked the nicest. The one 
I liked best hed a great star made o’ colored 
lights fixed up ’bove the boat sumhow, so’s it 
made it look as if ’twas standin’ jest ’bove it. 
There was others that I’d like ter ’scribe, but 
’tain’t no use tryin’, fur I couldn’t make no 
sech picter of it as ’twas. Prob’ble ev’ry- 
body’d tho’t ’twas as grand as it could be if 
there hedn’t bin nothin’ more, but when they 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 149 


went ter sendin’ up fireworks on the boats it 
seemed as if they never would find words to 
’xpress ’emselves with. Now I ain’t one o’ 
the gushin’ kind. When there ain’t nothin’ 
that kin be sed I alers feel like keepin’ still* 
Words is good ’nough fur most things, but 
there is times when I wouldn’t giv’ much fur 
a hull dickshunary full of ’em. But sum folks 
has ter let ther feelin’s out or they’d burst. 
There was a young woman standin’ near me> 
an’ ev’ry time one o’ them rockets would go 
shootin’ inter the air an’ then break ter pieces 
in stars an’ come floatin’ down as if the 
heav’ns was failin’, she’d clap her hands an’ 
say, “ Oh, ain’t that jest too sweet fur any- 
thing?” I su’pose that was the nearest she 
could git ter ’xpressin’ herself ’bout it, but it 
wouldn’t a struck me that way. 

Men is sech conseted bein’s that ’twon’t do 
ter flatter ’em up much, but I’ll giv’ ’em 
credit fur one thing, an’ that is that they 
don’t ever git so carried ’way with anything 
as ter call it “too sweet fur anything,” or 
“per-feck-ly love-ly,” or anything like that. 
But that ain’t sayin’ they alers say sumthin’ 
proper. Now that editor, in tollin’ ’bout it in 
his paper next day, sed it looked as if the gods 
was holdin’ a dance, an’ I tho’t he’d orter be 
’shamed fur usin’ sech perfane langwidge. 
Mebbe he meant sum o’ them heath’n gods 


1 50 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


they tell ’bout, but ’tain’t no ways likely they 
ever tho’t o’ dancin’, an’ if I couldn’t a sed 
sumthin’ more ’propriate’n that I wouldn’t a 
sed nothin’. 

Wal, as I sed, it was wuth goin’ a good 
ways ter see, but when I red in the paper 
the next mornin’ that Mr. Cook (I sh’d say 
Docter Cook) from Bostin was goin’ ter 
speak in the arternoon, I sed ter myself that 
’luminated fleet, as they called it, wasn’t 
wuth notisin’. Now I’ve alers wanted ter 
go ter Bostin ever sence I was big ’nough 
ter know there was sech a place. Nex’ ter 
goin’ ter Heav’n itself I don’t know of anything 
I’d ’njoy more, fur I ain’t no dout it’s nex’ 
door ter Paradice. But I giv’ up all hopes o’ 
ever goin’ there a good while ago, an’ then 
I sed if I could only see sumbody that lived 
there I’d die more contented, an’ now ter think 
here was a chance right ’fore me, ’thout my 
lookin’ fur it, was what might be called a 
mericle! — anyway, ’twas plain ’twas provi- 
denshul. I didn’t feel no smitin’s of con- 
shunse for puttin’ on my black silk- dress that 
day, fur I tho’t I’d never hev more ’cashun. I 
did feel ruther ’shamed o’ my bunnit tho’, fur 
it looked as if ’twasn’t showin’ him proper 
r’spect ter wear sech a lookin’ thing; but 
there wasn’t no other way, an’ I had ter make 
the best of it. I could hardly wait till ’twas 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 1 5 1 


time ter go, an’ I kep’ hurryin’ Mandy up so 
she got sort o’ vexed an’ sez she, “ I don’t 
see what ye’re in sech a hurry fur. I reckon 
ye’ll see him jest the same if ye ain’t there the 
furst one.” “ There ain’t never anything lost 
by bein’ in time,” sez I ; “an’ I wouldn’t miss 
hevin’ a good seat ter-day fur all creashun.” 
.(I ’xpect she’d spend jest so much time fixin’ 
if she was goin’ ter die, but she hed ter cut 
it short that time or I wouldn’t a waited fur 
her.) We did git there airlier ’n was neces- 
sary, but 1 didn’t mind waitin’ when I hed a 
good seat an’ could watch folks. I couldn’t 
help notisin’ while I set there what a dif- 
f’runce there is in folks ’bout waitin’. Sum’ll 
wriggle an’ twist an’ look at ther watches 
ev’ry few minites, an’ they’ll manige ter set 
ev’rybody ’round ’em in a fidgit ’fore they git 
throu’; then there’s them that’ll jest set an’ 
fan ’emselves as contented as a bumble bee in 
a field o’ clover, an’ ye’d never gess they was 
waitin’. I kal’late the last ones git ’long the 
most comfert’ble, fur I’ve found ’tain’t no use 
tryin’ ter hurry things in this wurld ; they’ll 
go ’long ’bout so anyhow, an’ anybody’s likely 
ter hev trouble that goes ter meddlin’ with 
'em. They didn’t begin ther meetin’ till ’twas 
time, fur all anybody’s bein’ in a hurry. I got 
in a fidgit myself sum waitin’, but when 
Docter Vinson come out an’ interduced 


152 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


Docter Cook an’ I wunce got my eyes on 
him I furgot ev’rything else pritty quick, 
fur I don’t think I was ever set back so in 
my life. 

Now I alers hed an idee that Bostin folks 
hed ter work so hard ter cultervate ther 
brains that it kind o’ stunted ther growth, 
an’ they never got ter be the same size as 
other folks, so I was ’xpectin’ ter see a lean, 
hungry-lookih’ feller, with a tremenjus big 
head on top a mighty leetle body, an’ 
when I see a whoppin’ great man come out 
there, lookin’ as if he’d been ust ter eatin’ 
three square meals a day all his life, it jest 
knocked my kal’lashuns inter nowhere. Not 
but what his head wasn’t big ’nough, — it hed 
ter be pritty big ter hold all he knowed, — but 
he wasn’t noways behind otherways, an’ I 
couldn’t do nothin’ but wonder how he ever 
got a chance ter grow so. I sed ter myself 
things never turned out ’cordin’ ter our 
’xpectashuns in this wurld, an’ like as not I’d 
find out he didn’t live in Bostin ; but the furst 
thing he sed knocked that idee all ter pieces 
too, fur he bro’t in sumthin’ ’bout Plymoth 
Rock, an’ as that’s the rock Bostin’s built on 
I knowed he must a come from there. I 
hedn’t heerd what he was ter talk ’bout, but 
he hedn’t got fur ’fore I found out; an’ he 
come near takin’ ’way my breath, fur I see he 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 153 


b’longed ter the same church I did, or ruther 
that I should when I got where I could jine 
one. An’ that wasn’t all ; the Pilgrims an’ all 
them that come over in the Mayflower was 
Congregashunists too — that is ter say, they 
would a bin if they’d knowed what ter call 
’emselves. I declare if I’d found out I was 
r’lated ter Queen Victory an’ all her fam’ly 
I couldn’t a bin more set up ’n I was then. I 
didn’t feel as if I ever wanted ter go back ter 
the Corners ter live agin. It alers was a leetle, 
snipped up place, and the sosity ain’t no ways 
what would be called s’lect, an’ I tho’t if I 
could only go sumwhere where I could go 
inter cultered sosity an’ be more ’presheated 
it would be more ter my mind. Wal, I 
needn’t say I liked that lecter. There was 
sum things I couldn’t quite understand, ’spe- 
shally that ’bout Calvinizm, fur I couldn’t 
quite make out whether Congregashunists 
was Calvinists or not ; but I tho’t mebbe he 
was givin’ ’em sum o’ them metyfizics that 
man was tellin’ me ’bout, only he’d sugar- 
coated ’em so they didn’t taste bad. When 
the meetin’ was out I told Mandy I was goin’ 
up ter git an interducshun ter him, but she 
sed likely he didn’t keer ter git ’quainted with 
ev’rybody, if he was from Bostin. I gess I 
sh’d a gone tho’ fur all that if I hedn’t hap- 
p’ned ter think o’ my bunnit ; but that held me 


154 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


back, for I tho’t likely he’d make up his 
mind ’bout my standin’ from my ’pearance, 
an’ I wasn’t goin’ ter hev my ’spectabilty 
damiged on ’count o’ my bunnit, so I didn’t 
go. When we was goin’ home I told Mandy 
I’d go ’round by the bak’ry an’ git sum 
bread, seein’ we hedn’t any. I found as big 
a crowd there as ever, all try in’ ter git what 
they wanted furst. ’Twas a good deal ’musin’ 
ter hear ’em call fur things, an’ ter see how 
out o’ pashunce they’d git if they couldn’t 
hev ’em right off. ’Twas, “ I want sum bread.” 

How much is them cakes?” “ Give me sum 
o’ them beans.” Got any crackers?” “ How 
d’ye sell yer pies?” an’ it kep’ them fellers 
steppin’ pritty lively. Things went off like 
a snowdrift in July, but they bro’t on more 
jest as fast, an’ ’twas a wonder ter me where 
it all come from. They must a bin rale good- 
natered or they’d got vexed at bein’ spoke 
ter so; but I ’xpect they’d got ust ter it. There 
was a woman standin’ pritty near me, an’ 
ev’ry time one o’ the men that was waitin’ on 
’em come near ’nough she’d say, “ I want two 
loaves o’ bread.” “ In a minit,” sez one o’ 
’em. Ye’ve bin say in’ in a minit for the last 
haf hour,” sez she, pritty sharp. “ Fd like ler 
hev ye understand Fm in a hurry.” 

He laffed an’ giv’ her the bread, an’ she 
went off lookin’cross ’nough ter bite sumbody. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 155 

I tho’t if she’d bin more perlite mebbe she’d 
got waited on sooner, an’ I sed Fd see if I 
couldn’t do better ; so when I hed a chance I 
stepped up ter the counter an’ sez very r’spect- 
ful, If ye please, will ye be kind ’nough ter 
let me hav a loaf o’ bread an’ a duzzen o’ 
them cakes?” He didn’t pay no ’tenshun 
ter me, but went on waitin’ on sumbody 
else. Thinkin’ he didn’t hear me I axed him 
agin, but he didn’t take no more notis o’ me 
that time than he did ’fore. I waited a minit 
or so an’ then I sed it agin consider’ble 
louder, fur I tho’t mebbe he was hard o’ 
bearin’. He looked ’round then an’ went 
ter puttin’ up a lot o’ biskits. “ I don’t want 
no biskits,” sez I, “ I want sum bread.” He 
nodded at me but didn’t make no move ter 
git it. By that time my pashunce was wore 
out, an’ I spoke up an’ sez, “ How long' s it 
goin’ ter take ye ter git that bread fur me ?” 

Jest as soon as I kin git ’round ter it, ma’m,” 
he sez. ‘‘We can’t wait on ev’rybody ter 
_ wunst.” When he’d giv’ the biskits ter a 
man that was waitin’ fur ’em he come ’long 
an’ sez he, “ What was it ye wanted ?” “ I 

want a loaf o’ bread an’ a duzzen o’ them 
cakes,” sez I, speakin’ ruther shorter ’n I 
ushully do. That time he maniged ter git it 
throu’ his head an’ got ’em fur me, an’ when 
I’d paid him I went ’way, sayin’ ter myself 


156 Na7icy Ha7^tshor7t at Chautauqua, 


that perliteness was well ’nough fur sum ’ca- 
shuns, but there was times when it could be 
’spensed with. Fur sum reason I wasn’t 
feelin’ as tired as I did sumtimes, an’ I tho’t 
I’d go ter the meetin’ in the evenin’. When 
I was waitin’ at the bak’ry I heerd a man say 
that Perfesser sumbody was goin’ ter show 
’em what invenshuns was bein’ diskivered 
now’days, an’ I made up my mind that was 
sumthin’ I’d be int’rested in. I axed Mandy 
’bout it, an’ she sed she b’lieved he was goin’ 
ter talk throu’ a telefone ter ’em. A tele- 
fone,” sez I; “ is that one o’ them new-fangled 
things the papers has hed so much ter say 
’bout lately?” '‘I gess ’tis,” sez she. 

Humph !” sez I, “ I ain’t much of ’n ’pinyun 
of ’em !” ‘‘ Why,” sez she, hev ye ever seen 

one of ’em ?” “ No,” sez I, “ but I don’t b’lieve 
there’s any sech thing as talkin’ so loud as 
ter be heerd miles off.” Well, they pertend 
ter say it kin be done,” sez she, an’ I don’t 
know as ’twould be any more strange ’n a 
good many other things they’ve found out.” 
^‘Wal, there can’t nobody make me b’lieve 
that, anyhow, fur it’s agin all nater,” sez I. 

It hed bin giv’ out as a lecter, an’ he giv’ 
that furst, so’s ter open the way fur what he 
was goin’ ter show ’em. Arter he’d bin 
talkin’ awhile ’bout what he sed sience was 
doin’ fur us, he told ’em he’d got a telefone 


Naficy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 157 


there, an’ he was goin’ ter speak ter a man in 
Westfield an’ tell him ter play a piece on a 
horn so we could hear it. “ Jest as if any- 
body’ll b’lieve that!” sez 1. “Why, that’s 
more’n twenty mile from here 1” “ Sh 1” sez 

Mandy, nudgin’ me ter keep still; so I shet 
my mouth an’ opened my eyes instid, an’ I 
sed ter myself I’d watch things pritty sharp, 
but all creashun shouldn’t make me open 
my mouth agin. 

There was sumthin’ standin’ on a table that 
I couldn’t see very well, an’ he put his mouth 
down ter it an’ sez “ Hello, there 1” Then 
he sed if they was rale still they’d hear ’em 
anser pritty soon ; so they set an’ held ther 
breaths as hard as they could, but there didn’t 
no anser come. Then he called out agin ter 
’em, “ Hello, there 1” an’ when they’d waited 
a few minits there was sum kind o’ noise, an’ 
he axed it if ’twas from Westfield. 

Nobody could hear what it sed, but he 
made out he did, fur he sez, “ I want ye ter 
play a piece in the telefone so’s we kin hear 
it here ter Chetauquy,” an’ then ev’rybody 
kep’ as still as death so’s ter hear it, an’ ’twas 
wonderful that all that crowd could so 
still; there must a bin sev’ril thousan’ of 
’em, but ye couldn’t hear so much as a whis- 
per. 

When they’d waited awhile an’ didn’t hear 


158 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


nothin’ they begun ter git res’les sum, an’ 
then the Perfesser called inter the telefone 
an’ axed ’em what was they waitin’ fur. 

There didn’t nobody anser him, so he sez 
“ Hello, there!” agin. 

I gess sumbody must a sed “ Hello” ter 
him, fur then he told ’em ter hurry ’cause we 
was waitin’ fur ’em ; so folks was still agin fur 
a spell, but there didn’t nothin’ come, an’ so 
he went ter helloin’ at ’em sum more an’ 
told ’em what he wanted ’em ter do. 

Dime by there was a noise that sounded 
sumthin’ like a cluckin’ hen, an’ he told us it 
sed the man in Westfield hed gone ter git 
his horn (cornit, the Perfesser called it). 

There was a good deal o’ laffin’ then, fur it 
looked as if we wasn’t likely ter hear any- 
thing right away, an’ I gess sum’d tho’t he’d 
bin foolin’ ’em all ’long if he hedn’t ’peared 
ter be so in airnest. 

Arter he’d waited what he tho’t was long 
’nough he axed the man at the other end if 
he was ready, but he couldn’t git nothin’ out 
o’ him. 

1 shouldn’t wonder if he couldn’t find his 
cornit, an’ didn’t want ter say so ; anyway, he 
wouldn’t anser all the helloin’ the Perfesser 
did ter him, an’ if I’d ’xpressed what I tho’t 
’bout that time I sh’d a sed there was a big 
humbug lyin’ ’round there sumwhere. 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 159 


But he wasn’t goin’ ter giv’ it up yit, so he 
called ter a man in Mayville. 

’T wasn’t more’n a minit ’fore he ansered, 
an’ this time there wasn’t no denyin’ that 
sumbody was talkin’ throu’ it, fur them that 
was settin’ near could hear it fur ’emselves. 
Fd hed my s’pishuns all ’long that there wasn’t 
nothin’ in it, but when I heerd that I hed ter 
giv’ in, an’ I ’lowed there was sumthin’ ’bout 
it past my findin’ out. I couldn’t see how 
in the wurld ’twas done, an’ no ’mount of 
’xplainin’ could a made it clear ter me ; but as 
cur’us as ’twas, that air fonergraf he hed 
left it way behind. 

When he sed he was goin’ ter talk ter it an’ 
then it would tell over what he sed I spoke 
right out, ’fore I tho’t, ter Mandy, an’ sez I, 
“ That’s a likely story ! I don’t perfess ter be 
’xtryord’nary smart, but I hope Fve got sense 
’nough ter know what kin be done an’ what 
can’t, an’ I can’t be made ter swallow sech a 
li — bil as that.” 

“ Don’t speak so loud,” sez she, “sumbody ’ll 
hear ye.” “ I reckon likely they will,” sez 
I; “iff hedn’t meant sumbody sh’d hear me 
I shouldn’t a sed nothin’.” 

1 see Fd mortyfied her agin, so I shet my 
mouth up tighter ’n ever, an’ I sed next time 
I sed anything Fd bite my tongue off. 

Wal, he went ter talkin’ inter sort of a 


i6o Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


trumpit, an’ then he took hold of a little 
crank like an’ wound it up, an’ then, as true 
as I’m ’ritin’ ’bout it, if that consarned thing 
didn’t go an’ tell all he’d sed ter it. 

At furst I wouldn’t b’lieve ’twas that a 
talkin.’ I’d bin thinkin’ mebbe he was one o’ 
them — I don’t know what ye call ’em — 
fellers that go ’round playin’ tricks on folks 
by talkin’ with ther mouths shet so’s ter 
make it sound as tho’ ’twas sumbody else, an’ 
I tho’t he was doin’ the talkin’ an’ pertendin’ 
’twas that fonergraf ; but when I’d heerd it a 
minit or two I see I was ’rong agin, fur there 
wasn’t no human bein’ that ever hed sech a 
voice as that hed. 

’Twasn’t like anything I ever heerd ’fore, 
an’ I tho’t if it hed come out o’ the grave 
itself it couldn’t a sounded any more super- 
nat’ral. 

I shouldn’t bin a bit s’prised if I’d seen a 
gost cornin’ up out of it, an’ I wouldn’t hev 
stood as near ter it as he did fur nothin’; but 
he didn’t ’pear ter be any ’feerd of it. Mebbe 
he tho’t sumbody’d be thinkin’ as I did, fur 
he wanted sumbody else ter come an’ talk ter 
it ; so a man went an’ sed the Lord’s prayer 
inter it. (I s’pose he couldn’t think o’ nothin’ 
else, but sumhow it put me in mind o’ them 
heath’n way off in Injy sayin’ ther pray- 
ers ter sech things, only I don’t s’pose 


Nancy Hartshor^i at ChatUauqua. i6i 


they’ve got any fonergrafs there ter say ’em 
ter.) 

Then one o’ the band players went an’ 
played a piece ter it, and when he’d wound 
it up agin it begun an’ sed the Lord’s prayer 
throu’, an’ quick as it sed Amen it went ter 
playin’ Yankee Doodle ! I couldn’t a held in 
then if it hed bin ter save me, an’ I spoke 
up an’ sez, “ That’s what I sh’d call next thing 
ter swearin’. I think it’s jest wicked ter go 
ter teachin’ that mashene ter do sech things. 
The Lord never made anything but folks ter 
talk, an’ when they go ter settin’ ’emselves 
up in oppersishun ter him an’ makin’ dum 
critters say things it looks ter me as if they 
was flyin’ in the face o’ the Almighty, an’ 
they’d orter git ther desarts fur bein’ so per- 
sumin’.” 

I was so roused up I s’pose I spoke louder’n 
I meant ter, fur I see sev’ril lafiin’, an’ I gess 
like ’nough they heerd me. 

There was a woman settin’ next ter me, an’ 
she seemed ter be drefful tickled at what 
I sed. When she stopped laffin’ she sez, 
“ P’raps folks kin make ’em useful sumway 
an’ then ’twon’t be so wicked.” 

“ That’s the wurst of it,” sez 1. “ Ev’ry- 
body’ll be wantin’ one, an’ the next thing we 
know they’ll be makin’ ’em so’s they kin walk, 
an’ then folks’ll be sendin’ ’em ’round ter do 


1 62 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


ther callin’ fur ’em. Nice Fd feel ter hev one 
o’ them ongainly things stalkin’ inter my set- 
tin’-room ! They may call it sience if they 
want ter, but I say it’s ’cause they want ter 
shirk out o’ doin’ what the Lord intended ’em 
ter by makin’ sumthin’ else ter do it fur ’em. 
When I git too lazy ter do my own talkin’ I 
want ter die.” 

While Fd bin talkin’ he’d axed one o’ 
the jubylee singers ter sing ter it, so he come 
an’ sung a piece ’bout laffin’, tollin’ how good 
’twas ter laff, an’ how folks orter laff more. 
Then he went ter work ter show ’em how, an’ 
I declare if he didn’t laff clear down inter his 
boots ! I gess folks tho’t he meant fur ’em 
ter go ter practisin’ right off, fur they all went 
at it as hard as they could, ’thout waitin’ fur 
him ter stop ; but there couldn’t any of ’em 
laff as he did, an’ when they see he’d beat’ em 
they tried it over agin. They hed ter giv’ up 
that time, tho’, that they couldn’t do it as it 
orter be done — not that they didn’t try 
hard ’nough, but sumhow they couldn’t git 
hold of it as he did. 

Then that air fonergraf went ter work ter 
show ’em what it could do at it. They’d got 
pritty quiet agin when it begun, but when 
that outlandish thing went ter squawkin’ out 
sumthin’ that wasn’t no more like a laff’n the 
croakin’ of a frog is like thunder, they didn’t 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 163 


stop with laffin’ — they jest roared ! ’Tween 
’em both it looked as if that jubylee’d hev 
ter haul in his colers. He ’peared ter ’njoy 
it, tho’, an’ laffed as hard as any of ’em, fur I 
gess he see there wasn’t no danger o’ that 
thing ever bein’ a success in tryin’ ter imertate 
him. 1 shouldn’t wonder if the Perfesser was 
ruther ’shamed of it fur makin’ sech a noise, 
fur he didn’t ax it ter do anything more. 

Wal, I was drefful sorry I went that even- 
in’, fur I got wro’t up so in my feelin’s over 
it that I like ter never got ter sleep, an’ when 
I did that plagey thing was chasin’ me all the 
time — that is ter say, in my dreams. 

Wunce I got things a good deal mixed up, 
an’ I dreamt Docter Cook hed got one of ’em 
ter do his preachin’ fur him an’ was sendin’ it 
round holdin’ Congregashunist meetin’s, but 
I was so prejudised agin it that I wouldn’t 
go near ’em. 

I didn’t dout but what ’twas sound ’nough 
on the doctrins (I knowed he wouldn’t send 
it ’nless ’twas), but I didn’t feel like givin’ my 
count’nance ter sech doin’s. I woke up long 
’fore mornin’, but I wasn’t in any frame o’ 
mind ter go ter sleep agin, an’ while I lay 
there tossin’ ’round an’ waitin’ fur it ter come 
I made up my mind that too much sience on 
the brains was as bad as too much vittles on 
the stumick when it come ter dijestin’ ’em, 


164 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


an’ like. as not I’d be gittin’ the dispepshy if 
I wasn’t more keerful ’bout overloadin’ ’em so. 

When Mandy woke up I told her I tho’t 
I’d hed all I wanted ter of Chetauquy an’ I 
gessed I’d go home that day. ‘‘Fact is,” sez 
I, “ there’s sumthin’ goin’ on here all the time 
ter agertate my narves so that I shan’t never 
git settl’d down agin, an’ the sooner I git out 
of it the better off I’ll be.” 

O’ course she set up that I mustn’t go. 
“Ye ain’t ’bleeged ter go ter ev’ry thing if ye 
don’t want ter,” sez she, “but there’s sum 
things cornin’ ye’ll want ter be here ter, an’ 
ye’ll alers be sorry if ye don’t stay. There’s 
a woman goin’ ter lecter here this even- 
in’, an’ sum more ter-morrer, an’ I gess ye’ll 
miss sumthin’ wuth bearin’ if ye go.” “I 
ain’t likely ter stay fur that,” sez 1, “fur I 
hevn’t much ’pinyun o’ wimmin’s lecterin’, 
anyhow. If they’d lecter ther husbands more 
ter home, as Paul told ’em ter, there wouldn’t 
be no call fur ’em ter speak ther minds in 
publick.” “ I didn’t know as Paul told ’em ter 
lecter ther husbands,” sez she, lookin’ at me 
ruther s’prised. “ Mebbe not in jest so many 
words,” sez I, “ but he was well ’nough 
’quainted with ’em ter know they desarved it, 
an’ it’s my b’lief that’s what he meant.” 

Arter all, I tho’t I’d ruther like ter hear 
what they hed ter say, an’ then agin it might 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 165 


look ter the deacon as if I wasn’t ’njoyin’ my- 
self as much as I’d made out if I sh’d go home 
now. On the hull, I sed ter myself, it might 
be better ter stay till ’twas out, seein’ I didn’t 
’xpect I’d ever be there agin, an’ as she sed, I 
wasn’t ’bleeged ter go ter ev’rything if I didn’t 
want ter. So I told her that sence I’d bought 
a ticket ter stay till ’twas out I didn’t see but 
what I’d hev ter, anyway. Then we went ter 
talkin’ ’bout where ter go that day, an’ we 
sed we wouldn’t go ter meetin’s any, but we’d 
go down ter the landin’, ’cause ’twas cooler 
there, an’ make ourselves as comfert’ble as we 
could. 


CHAPTER X. 


OUR DINNER AT THE EATIN’ HOUSE. 

The weather hed got so warm there wasn’t 
much comfert ter be took anywhere, but with 
the refreshin’ breeze there was blowin’ off the 
lake we found ’twas a good deal more ’njoy- 
able’n bein’ packed in that ampletheter. On 
our way there we hed ter go past the place 
where they was roastin’ peanuts, an’ they 
smelled so temptin’ that I stopped an’ bought 
sum. “ I don’t s’pose Docter Vinson would 
think ’twas proper ter eat ’em,” sez I ter 
Mandy, “ but as long as I ain’t a C. L. S. C. 
he can’t say nothin’.” 

We found an easy-lookin’ seat fixed up 
aginst a tree as nat’ral as if it growed there, 
an’ so we set down ’thout waitin’ ter be in- 
vited, an’ eat our peanuts an’ watched folks 
cornin’ an’ goin’, an’ ’twasn’t long ’fore my 
head begun ter feel lighter’n it did when I 
was groanin’ beneeth that load o’ si — ence. 

When the furst boat went off I tho’t certin 
ev’rybody was goin’ ’way, but the next one 
that come bro’t as many more, an’ ’twas jest 
so all the time, only I gess sum days there was 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 167 


more come than went. It must a bin a good 
deal confusin’ ter them men that took the 
money, fur they couldn’t let anybody in till 
they paid fur goin’ in, or anybody out till 
they’d found out whether they’d staid longer’n 
they’d paid fur. I don’t see how they ever 
maniged ter keep things strait, but they was 
’mazin’ sharp, an’ if anybody undertook ter 
deseeve ’em they’d be sure ter find it out. 
They hed ter be good natered ’bout it, too, 
fur sum would find fault an’ act as tho’ they 
wasn’t bein’ treated right, an’ they hed ter be 
pleasant ter all of ’em, an’ ’xplain things so 
nobody’d think they was bein’ imposed on. 

There was sum more ruther sharp-set folks 
there, tho’. 

Jest ’fore one o’ the boats started there was 
a woman come hurryin’ down ter the gate, 
lookin’ as tho’ sh’d run ’most all the way. She 
giv’ her ticket ter the man that stood there ter 
take ’em an’ was fur goin’ right on, but he 
stopped her an’ sez, “ Here, you can’t go out on 
this ticket !” “ Why not can’t I ?” sez she. 

’Cause it’s only good fur three days, an’ this is 
the fourth day sence you got it.” “ Wal, ain’t 
I goin’ ’way as fast as I kin ?” sez she. “ I ain’t 
bin here all day yit.” “ That don’t make any 
difl’runce,” sez he, smilin’. “Ye’ll hev ter 
pay jest the same.” “ D’ye mean ter say I’ve 
got ter pay jest as much fur bein’ here a little 


1 68 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


while this mornin’ as I would ter stay all day?” 
sez she. “Yes, ma’m,” sez he, “that’s our 
rule.” “ Then 1 gess I’ll stay till night so’s ter 
git the wuth o’ my money,” sez she, an’ back 
she went. I s’pose she tho’t she was too 
much fur him that time, but ’tain’t likely he 
keerd anything ’bout it. 

Sumhow that pint was a great ’tracshun 
ter folks, fur there was alers sights of ’em sit- 
tin’ ’round or walkin’ up an’ down. I notised 
they was mostly young men an’ wimmin, an’ 
I tho’t ’twould bin better fur ’em if they’d 
jine them C. L. S. C.’s an’ try ’n improve ’em- 
selves instid o’ gaddin’ ’round so. 

One thing struck me as sing’ler, an’ that was 
how fur young wimmin kin stand it ter walk 
when they’ve got ther good clothes on an’ 
want ev’rybody ter see ’em. T kal’late sum of 
’em must a walked ’bout three miles back an’ 
forth one way’n anuther, an’ they didn’t look 
very strong neither. Mebbe that wasn’t 
what made all of ’em do it, fur sum looked 
as if they was huntin’ fur sumbody — p’raps 
’twas ther fathers. 

Wal, we staid there all the mornin’, an’ 
when ’twas time fur dinner I felt a good deal 
more like eatiii’ than I would if I’d hed ter 
take a dose o’ metyfizics ’forehand ; but ’twas 
’nough ter take ’way anybody’s appetite ter 
think o’ goin’ so fur as we’d hev ter, an’ then 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 169 


fryin’ over the stove ter git it. We didn’t 
neither o’ us feel like doin’ it, an’ so Mandy 
set in that we should go ter the eatin’-house 
an’ git our dinner. 

I didn’t fall in with it at furst, fur it looked 
ter me a good deal ’xtravagunt ; but I couldn’t 
help thinkin’ that 'twoiild be a comfertter hev 
a good meal o’ vittles ’thout the trouble o’ git- 
tin’ ’em. I argyed the matter in my mind a 
spell an’ I sed ’twasn’t offen I was guilty o’ 
spendin’ money in that way, but now sar- 
cumstances ruther justyfied it, so ter speak, 
an’ as long’s ’twas my money that paid fur it 
nobody hed any bisness ter find any fault. 
So I told Mandy we’d do it. 

We got there ’fore the crowd did, but as 
soon’s the meetin’ was out ter the amplethe- 
ter they come pourin’ in till there wasn’t room 
fur any more, an’ I begun ter feel shaky ’bout 
our gittin’ anything ter eat, fur I tho’t they 
couldn’t possible feed ’em all. 

There wasn’t skeercely anything on the 
tables ’xceptin’ sum bread’n butter an’ crack- 
ers, an’ I ’lowed we’d done better if we’d gone 
home. 

When theyM all got set down them waiters 
Avent ter flyin’ ’round an’ axin’ ev’rybody 
what they wanted, an’ then they’d go off sum- 
where an’ git it fur ’em. Sech sights an’ 
sights o’ vittles as they hed there I never see 


1 70 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


'fore. They didn’t ’pear ter git out o’ any- 
thing, but kept bringin’ on whatever anybody 
called fur as if there wasn’t no end o’ things, 
an’ ’twas a wonder ter me how in the wurld 
they found out ’forehand what folks would 
want so’s ter hev it ready cooked fur ’em. 
There was so many things anybody could 
hev that I didn’t hardly know what ter call 
fur when they come ter me, but I fin’lly sed 
I’d hev sum pork an’ beans an’ taters. “ Why 
didn’t ye take sumthin’ ye can’t git ter home ?” 
sez Mandy. I kin git ’nough o’ sech things 
there. I’m goin’ ter hev sum frickaseed 
chicken.” What kind of a chicken’s that?” 
sez I. “ I don’t know jest how they cook it,” 
sez she, “ but I eat sum ter Marier’s party 
an’ ’twas splendid.” 

I was most sorry I didn’t hev sum too, but 
when I’m right hungry there ain’t nothin’ 
kin take the place o’ pork an’ beans, an’ I’d 
ruther hev ’em ’n all the fixin’s I know of. 

When they bro’t what we told ’em Man- 
dy put sum o’ that chicken on my plate, 
’cause she sed there was more’n she could eat. 
As soon’s I’d tasted o’ it I sez, “ That ain’t 
nothin’ but fried chicken !” “No,” sez she, 

“ ’tain’t fried, it’s the French way o’ cookin’ 
it.” “ French fiddlesticks!” sez I. “Ye may 
call it any name ye’re a mind ter, it’s fried 
chicken jest the same. I gess I’d orter 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 171 


know, as many times as I’ve cooked it that 
way. It’s gittin’ so now ’days things ain’t 
tho’t ter be r’spect’ble eatin’ ’nless they’ve 
got a French name ter ’em.” “ They make 

sum nice things there, anyhow,” sez she. 
“ Wal, pork an’ beans an’ sech things as I’ve 
alers bin ust ter eatin’ is good ’nough fur me,” 
sez I, “ I’ve lived ^n’ thrived on ’em all my 
life, an’ I kal’late they’ll do fur me yit a spell.” 

While I was eatin’ I notised a woman (I 
s’pose she called herself a lady) settin’ opper- 
sit ter me that didn’t seem ter be able ter git 
anything she could eat. She kept callin’ fur 
things, but when they was bro’t ter her she’d 
jest taste ’em an’ then push ’em ’way, an’ pritty 
soon she sez ter the man that was with her (I 
gess ’twas her husband), “ There ain’t nothin’ 
here fit ter eat. I wish I’d staid ter home!” 
He ’peared ter be rale anxshus ter find sum- 
thin’ she’d like, but she found fault with 
ev’ry thing there was there, an’ I tho’t she 
must a bin ust ter hevin’ an uncommon good 
livin’ ter home ter be so hard ter suit, fur 
there was ev’rything a body could think of, 
an’ ’twas cooked nice, too. I hedn’t seen ’em 
bring her any beans, an’ it struck me mebbe 
sum would taste good ter her. I tho’t 
’twouldn’t be nothin’ more’n perlite ter offer 
her sum, anyway, so I reached ’em over ter 
her an’ sez, “Mebbe ye’d like sum beans. 


172 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautatiqua. 


They’re rale nourishin’ if a body don’t feel 
well.” My ! sech a look as she giv’ me ! If 
I’d offered her a dish o’ rattlesnakes she 
couldn’t n looked more horryfied. Thank 
ye,” sez she, as freezin’ as an icycle, I never 



they're rale nourishin’ if a body don’t feel well.” 


eat ’em.” I don’t ’xpect they’d hurt ye 
any,” sez I, “ ’nless ye’ve got the dyspepshy ; 
if ye hev they might be too heavy fur ye.” 
She giv’ me anuther freezin’ look, but she didn’t 
anser me, so I didn’t say nothin’ more ter her, 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautatiqua, 1 73 


fur I tho’t she felt cross-grained ’bout sumthin’. 
I couldn’t help feelin’ sorry fur her husband, 
fur she snapped him up pritty short sev’ril 
times, an’ I gess he didn’t hev a very com- 
fert’ble time if she alers acted so. 

I didn’t notis her much more, tho’, fur my 
’tenshun was took up jest then by a cupple o’ 
young preachers that sat near by. I knowed 
they was preachers by ther looks, an’ then 
agin by ther eatin’ so much — preachers is 
alers sech a hungry set; ’twas a wonder ter me 
how they got a chance ter talk any, fur the 
way things went out o’ sight inter ther 
mouths was ’stonishin’. 

If they’d bin sat’sfyed with eatin’ vittles 
there wouldn’t a bin no harm done, but they 
was talkin’ ’bout a lecter they’d heerd since 
they come there, an’ ’fore they got throu’ they’d 
eat it up, figgertively speakin’, as clean as they 
hed ev’rything else. I don’t think I’d better 
say whose ’twas, fur if he should ever happin 
ter read this it might make him feel bad ; but 
’twas a pity he hedn’t axed ’em ’bout it ’fore 
he giv’ it, fur he’d bin s’prised ter find how 
much more they knowed ’bout it ’n he did, 
or anybody else fur that matter. When I’d 
heerd ’em a spell I made up my mind I hedn’t 
seen anybody ’fore wuth menshunin’. I 
couldn’t think who they could be, fur I didn’t 
rec’lect readin’ ’bout ’em in the paper or 


1 74 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


hearin’ them lecter, tho’ anybody could see 
they was cap’ble o’ lecterin’ on anything if 
they’d bin invited. I knowed Docter Vinson 
would a bin glad ter git ’em ter do sumthin’ 
if he’d heerd they was there, if ’twas only ter 
set on the platform. There was lots there 
that wasn’t haf so desarvin’ o’ notis, an’ ’twasn’t 
no wonder they felt ruther edgeways. 

There was a man set the other side o’ me 
that I gess was as much int’rested as I was in 
lis’nin’ ter ’em, fur he looked a good deal 
pleased. Dime by I sez ter him, “ Them 
fellers ’pear ter hev a heap o’ lamin’ tucked 
’way in ther heads. I gess they’re C. L. S. 
C.’s, ain’t they?” He looked at me sort o’ 
funny an’ then he sez, “ They b’long ter one 
C. L. S. C.” I didn’t know’s there was 
more’n one,” sez I. “Oh, yes, there’s two of 
’em,” sez he, “ only one is the C. L. S. C. an’ 
the other is the C. L. C. S. Ye see they hev 
ter change the letters a little so’s ter tell ’em 
apart, but it sounds just as well.” “ 1 don’t 
see any use’n hevin’ two,” sez I. “That’s so’s 
ter ’comerdate ev’rybody,” sez he ; “ anybody 
kin b’long ter the C. L. S. C. that wants ter, 
but there’s only a few kin b’long ter the C. L. 
C. S. There can’t any of the C. L. S. C.’s 
jine ’em, ’cause they ain’t fur ’nough ’vanced 
yit.” 

He looked as tho’ he was holdin’ back a 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 175 


joke, an’ I tho’t he was waitin’ fur me ter help 
him let it out, so I sez, “ I ain’t never heerd 
what them letters stood fur yit ; if ye kin tell 
me I’d be proper glad ter find out.” “ Cer- 
tingly,” sez he, smilin’ all over, “ C. L. S. C. 
stands fur “ Chetauquy Lit’rary an’ Sientifick 
Circle.’” “Well sed,” sez I. “’Pears ter me 
they’re a good deal top heavy. No wonder 
they look so wore out, hevin’ ter carry sech a 
load as that! Now what’s the other one?” 
He waited a minit an’ then he sez, “ C. L. C. 
S. stands fur ‘ Chetauquy Lib’ral Criticizm 
Sosiety.’ ” “ That ain’t much better as I kin 

see,” sez I; “now what be they fur?” “The 
furst one is fur ter study an’ read all they 
kin so’s ter improve ’emselves, an’ the other 
is ter see all they kin ter critisize, an’ it 
giv’s ’em all plenty ter do. Ye see when 
anybody s lamed all there is ter larn in this 
wurld there ain’t nothin’ left fur ’em but ter 
go ter critisizin’ other folks, an’ them C. L. S. 
C.’s has got ter wait a good many year ’fore 
they git there.” 

“ Did Docter Vinson git ’em both up ?” sez 
I. “No,” sez he, “I don’t s’pose he knows 
anything ’bout the last one ; he couldn’t b’long 
ter it anyway, fur he don’t b’lieve in critisizin’ 
folks.” “ Wal, if this don’t beat all the places 
I ever went ter,” sez I. “ When I set out ter 
come here I s’posed I was cornin’ ter a camp- 


1 76 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


meetin’ ; arter I got here I heerd ’twas a Sun- 
day-school ’sembly, an’ now I’ve found out 
’tain’t neither of ’em. I shouldn’t be much 
s’prised if I was ter hear ’twas sumthin’ else 
’fore I go ’way.” 

He laffed, an’ sez he, I gess it’s all of ’em 
put inter one.” “ Must be then that’s the 
Chetauquy idee I heerd ’em talkin’ ’bout,” 
sez I. “ Egsactly,” sez he, “ only we’ve told 
it in less words ’n they do.” By that time 
we hed finished eatin’ an’ was ready ter go, 
so I didn’t hev time ter say any more. I 
would liked ter hev axed sum more questyuns, 
but I was glad I’d found out as much as I 
hed, fur I could see inter sum things better ’n 
I could ’fore. I tho’t I’d like ter b’long ter 
that C. L. C. S. It’s so much easier criticizin’ 
other folks ’n ’tis ter do what they’re doin’, 
an’ then, ’sides, it giv’s a body sort of a stand- 
in’, an’ makes folks think ye know sumthin’ 
whether ye do or not. 

Now if anybody don’t know much it’s a 
rale satisfackshun ter make other folks think 
ye do, an’ it’s a great blessin’ ter know how 
ter do it. It kind a takes the place of an edi- 
cashun, an’ I hed an idee that if I b’longed 
ter it mebbe ’twould be a good deal o’ sarvis 
ter me, — not that I consider myself cap’ble 
o’ jedgin’ alers. I’m free ter say there’s sum 
things I don’t feel like givin’ my ’pinyun 


Nancy Hartshor 7 i at Chatifauqna. 177 


’bout, but I’ve larnt too that folks off’n git 
credit fur knowin’ things jest by keepin’ ther 
mouths shet, an’ I’ve found it’s gin’rally safe 
ter toiler that plan when I ain’t quite clear on 
any pint ’Bout most things, tho’, if I do say 
it, I kal’late I kin trust ter my jedgment ter 
tell me when they air as they should be. 

That ev’nin’, Avhen I was bearin’ that woman 
from Canada lecter on temp’rance, I tho’t if 
there was any o’ them C. L. C. S. there they 
must hev hard work ter critisize it, fur ’cord- 
in’ ter my thinkin’ there wasn’t nothin’ ter crit- 
isize. She jest hit the nail on the head ev’ry 
time, an’ she didn’t mind who she was driviiT 
at either. I gess it made sum of ’em squirm 
a leetle, fur she was rale outspoken, an’ sed 
pritty plain what she tho’t ’bout folks that 
wasn’t helpin’ long temp’rance. I didn’t go 
thinkin’ ter hear anything wonderful, fur I 
wasn’t ’xpectin’ much from a furriner like 
that, but ’fore she got throu’ I tho’t I’d giv’ 
a good deal if I knowed haf as much as 
she did. 

She an’ the wimmin that spoke next day 
changed my mind consider’ble ’bout wimmin 
lecterin’. Wy, I don’t s’pose there was many 
men there that could hold a candle ter ’em. 
Docter Cook was the only man that did any 
talkin’, an’ he ’d orter bin proud o’ the comp’ny 
he was trainin’ in. I ’low he talked sens’ble, 


1 78 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


considerin’ ev’rything, but there was sum 
things he sed would bear critisizin’. There 
wasn’t no other man hed the kurrige ter try, 
so they giv’ the day up ter the wimmin an’ 
they filled it so full o’ meetin’s that it wouldn’t 
a giv’ anybody time ter eat if they’d gone ter 
all of ’em. 

Sum folks pertend ter say that we must 
practise temp’rance in other things ’sides 
drinkin’. If that’s so I kal’late ’twas preached 
more ’n’twas practised that day ; but prob’ble 
they tho’t, sence ’twas the only day ’lowed 
ter ’em, they was ’xcusable fur makin’ the 
most out of it. I heerd Mr. Baker say that 
evenin’ that they didn’t say nothin’ but what 
ev’rybody knowed ’fore, but then he’s one o’ 
the kind that alers knowed ev’rything ’fore, 
so his sayin’ it wasn’t strange. It’s my 
’pinyun if his wife hed knowed sum things 
’bout him ’fore she married him she’d never 
bin Mis Baker. That was a drefful trouble- 
sum child o’ ther’n, an’ instid o’ stayin’ ter 
home sumtimes with it, as he orter, an’ 
lettin’ her go ter meetin’, that man was so 
’bom’n’ble selfish he’d jest let her stay there 
all the time an’ take keer of it. He didn’t 
miss goin’ ter any of ’em, but if he’d bin my 
husband I reckon he’d missed sum o’ the hair 
on the top of his head, so ter speak, if he’d 
used me that way. I felt that sorry fur her 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 1 79 


that the next arternoon I told her I’d stay with 
the baby an’ she might go an’ hear Docter 
Cook. She wouldn’t hear ter it at furst, but 
I talked her inter it, an’ I gess she was glad 
’nough ter go. 

Considerin’ that I hevn’t much of a takin’ 
fur childern, an’ wanted ter go ter the lecter 
myself, ’twas a good deal self-sacrifizin’ in me 
ter do it, but I r’membered that we was told in 
the Scripters that we must bear one anuther’s 
troubles, an’ I tho’t I’d do what I could ter 
showlder part o’ her’n ; but, my goodness ! 
’fore I got throu’ I found ’twas a bigger load 
’n I kal’lated on. I never kin tell why that 
young un didn’t kill itself a yellin’ that day. 
It couldn’t a bin ’cause it didn’t try hard 
’nough. I did ev’rything I ever heerd of ter 
stop it, but the more I giv’ it the wurse it yelled, 
an’ I fin’lly giv’ it up an’ let it take all the 
comfert ’twas a mind ter at it. It held out 
fur ’most two hour an’ then it stopped ter 
rest a leetle. (I didn’t wonder it hed ter, fur 
if I’d hed ter work as hard as that did all that 
while I should a bin clean tuckered out.) It 
hed only jest got ter sleep when Mis Baker 
come, an’ she’d ’njoyed goin’ so much that I 
tho’t I wouldn’t say nothin’ ’bout what a time 
I’d hed, but I hope I’ll git my r’ward sumtime 
fur doin’ my dooty that day. 

The next mornin’ when we was talkin’ ’bout 


i8o Nancy Hartshorn at Chaiitauqtia, 


what there was ter be that day, Mandy sed 
Docter Vinson was goin’ ter hev a camp-fire 
fur the C. L. S. C.’s sumwhere in the evenin’, 
^‘What’s that?” sez I. “ Marier sez they’re 
goin’ ter build a big fire, an’ then all set ’round 
it an’ tell stories, an’ hev speeches an’ singin’, 
an’ I don’t know what else,” sez she. “ I 
should s’pose they could keep warm ’nough 
sech weather ’thout hevin’ a fire ter set by,” 
sez I. “ ’Cordin’ ter my thinkin’ ’twould be 
more ’njoyable if they’d build a big snow 
bank. Where’s it goin’ ter be?” “I don’t 
know,” sez she, “ but I gess the paper’ll telL” 
So I got it, an’ the furst thing I see was that 
the C. L. S. C.’s was ter jine in a percesshun 
an’ march ter the camp-fire beyend the grave 
at haf past nine that evenin’. 

I was so took back when I red it that ’twas 
much as a minit ’fore I could git it throu’ my 
head what it meant ; then sez I, “ For the 
land’s sake I If that ain’t the windin’ up of 
ev’ry thing I ever heerd in all my life !” “What 
is it ?” sez she. So I red it ter her an’ she 
didn’t know no more ’n I did what ter make 
of it “ I knowed Docter Vinson was pritty 
hard-hearted,” sez I, “but I didrCt s’pose he’d 
be guilty o’ doin’ sech a thing as that ! Here 
them poor C. L. S. C.’s has been workin’ an’ 
diggin’ an’ slavin’ ’emselves ter do what he 
wanted ’em ter, an’ now ter pay ’em fur it 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. i8i 


he’s goin’ ter hev ’em killed an’ burnt up 
right here on the ’sembly ground. It’s jest 
awful !” 

It don’t say he’s goin’ ter hev ’em killed,” 
sez she, readin’ it agin. “ I don’t see what 
else ye kin make of it,” sez I. “ O’ course they 
can’t git beyond the grave ’nless he kills ’em ! 
I should a tho’t if they hedn’t a done jest 
right he might a waited till they died a nat- 
’ral death ’fore he hed a fire made fur ’em. 
It looks ter me as tho’ he was takin’ consid- 
er’ble ’sponsibility outer himself, anyway, ter 
go ter ’rangin’ ’bout anybody’s filter punish- 
ment. I wouldn’t wonder if the Lord kin 
'tend ter that ’thout any o’ his help.” “ I 
don’t b’lieve that’s what it means,” sez she ; 
“ must be there’s a mistake sumwhere.” “ I 
don’t see how it could read any plainer,” sez 
I. “ I know well ’nough that’s what it’s fur, 
an’ it’s Jest upset me so I shan’t ’njoy nothin’ 
all day.” 

I tho’t I’d go ter the lecter that mornin* 
an’ mebbe I’d find out sumthin’ ’bout it, an’ I 
sed ter myself if I found out ’twas so there 
wasn’t nothin’ on eirth could git me ter stay 
there a day longer. When Docter Vinson 
come ter read what they was ter hev he giv’ 
out that the camp-fire was ter be beyend the 
grove (instid o’ the grave), an’ then I see 
'twas all ’cause them blunderin’ printers hed 


1 82 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


spelt it wrong that I got ’xercised so, an’ I 
felt like givin’ ’em a good shakin’ fur it. 
’Tain’t no ways likely they did it a purpose, 
but they’d orter be more keerful ’bout har- 
rowin’ up folkses feelin’s in that way. 

Now that my mind was r’lieved ’bout that 
I could lissen ter the lecter more ’tentive. I 
furgit what the name of it was, but he went on 
ter tell all ’bout the Injuns, an’ the Chinese, 
an’ the Nigros, an’ I tho’tifall he sed was true 
we’d got sumthin’ ter anser fur. ’Tain’t no 
way ter do, jest ’cause we’re whiter’n sum 
folks, ter go ter despisin’ ’em an’ treatin’ ’em 
bad. We was all made out o’ the dust o’ the 
airth, ’cordin’ ter Scripter, an’ seein’ we hedn’t 
no hand in s’lectin’ the coler we was ter be 
’tain’t no credit ter us whatever ’tis, an’ there 
ain’t no sence in puttin’on airs ’bout it. We’ve 
got so ust ter thinkin’ we’re the top crust that 
it’s made us a leetle too cranky; but I reckon 
the top crust wouldn’t ’mount ter much if there 
wasn’t sumthin’ underside, an’ if ye’re speakin’ 
o’ mince pies it’s likely ter be a good deal 
mixed up an’ ruther dark colered, an’ I 
shouldn’t wonder if the same was true techin’ 
mankind in gin’ral. 

When Docter Cook (I don’t know as I sed 
’fore that ’twas him that was givin’ the lecter), 
in talkin’ ’bout the black folks, turned ’round 
an’ shook hands with one o’ them jubylee 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 183 

singers, ter show that he tho’t they was as 
good as he was, it was rale techin’, an’ ’twasn’t 
no wonder that all that crowd o’ folks went 
ter cheerin’ an’ wavin’ ther handkerchers at 
him. He might a talked all day an’ ’twouldn’t 
a bin haf as convincin’ an’ argyment as that 
was, fur it showed he wasn’t layin’ down 
rules fur other folks that he wasn’t willin’ ter 
foller himself. 

When I found out them C. L. S. C.’s wasn’t 
goin’ ter be killed I felt more like goin’ ter 
see what ther big fire was fur. I didn’t feel 
quite easy ’bout it yit, fur I tho’t it hed a bad 
look, an’ I was s’picshus there was sumthin’ 
wrong sumwhere. 

Anyhow, I told Mandy we wouldn’t go 
with the percesshun, so’s if anything hap’ned 
we’d be out o’ danger ; so when they was 
gittin’ ready we went on ahead. We didn’t 
hev ter ax the way, fur ther was a good many 
more that felt ruther ’feerd of it I gess, an’ 
they was hurryin’ ’long ter git there furst, so 
we went with ’em. 

’Twas quite a walk ter where they was ter 
hev it ; fur they hed ter go out o’ the woods an’ 
up on top a hill, so’s it could be seen a good 
ways off, but ev’rybody was so ’xcited ’bout 
it they didn’t mind walkin’ a mile or so ter 
see it. 

They hedn’t got the fire started yit when 


184 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


we got there, but there was a sight o’ barr’ls 
an’ boxes an’ sech things all piled up, ready 
ter set fire ter when the percesshun come. 
’T wasn’t long ’fore we heerd the band playin’, 
an’ pritty soon we see the torches they was 
carryin’ come windin’ ’long throu’ the woods. 

When they got out where we could see ’em, 
an’ come marchin’ up the hill like an army o’ 
solgers, ’twas, as sumbody sed, a most ’mposin’ 
specticle. The band come furst, an’ arter them 
a lot o’ boys with torches, an’ then Docter 
Vinson, an’ follerin’ him was that long perces- 
shun, reachin’ back so fur there wasn’t no 
seein’ the end of it. I tried ter think how ter 
giv’ sum idee ’bout it if I should ever want 
ter, but I couldn’t think o’ nothin’ but Moses 
leadin’ the childern o’ Isril up out o’ Egipt, 
only 1 don’t s’pose they hed any band playin’ 
or torches then. (Come ter think of it now, 
I ain’t certin that I was so fur out o’ the way, 
fur I reck’n the childern o’ Isril didn’t hev 
ter work any harder ter git over inter Canan 
’n them C. L. S. C.’s did ter git throu’ Che- 
tauquy an’ inter the land o’ promise — that is, 
s’posin’ there was a land o’ promise fur ’em 
bey end that camp-fire.) 

Soon’s they’d all got there an’ got ’ranged 
’round that heap o’ kindlin’ sumbody set fire 
ter it, an’ ’twasn’t a minit ’fore ’twas blazin’- 
like a house a fire an’ folks hed ter back off 


Na 7 icy Hartshorn at Chatitauqua. 185 


pritty fast. I didn’t know but them barr’ls 
might be loaded up with sumthin’ that would 
go off an’ kill ev’rybody, an’ I took keer ter 
keep a proper ways off till I see there wasn’t 
no danger; but when I see ’em fixin’ a place 
clos up ter it fur Docter Vinson an’ Mr. 
Berd an’ sum more of ’em ter make speeches 
on, I tho’t if they wasn’t ’feerd I needn’t be. 

There didn’t nothin’ o’ that kind happin, 
but I shouldn’t wonder if they never hed sech 
a scorchin’ ’fore. It must a bin pritty hard 
on ’em, fur when ’twas over they hedn’t one 
of ’em any hair left on top ther heads. Mebbe, 
tho’, there wasn’t any there ter begin with — 
I wouldn’t say fur certin ’bout that. They 
made sum good speeches considerin’ what 
they must a bin suff’rin’, an’ when they’d got 
throu’ the C. L. S. C.’s sung a piece an’ then 
the meetin’ broke up, an’ that was all there 
was of it, near’s I kin rec’lect. I heerd sum 
of ’em say they’d ’njoyed ’emselves furst-rate, 
an’ like ’nough they did. Nobody could deny 
but what they’d hed a meltin’ time. 

I didn’t feel jest sat’sfied, sumhow, fur I’d 
got my mind so made up that there was 
trouble cornin’ out o’ it that I was sort o’ dis- 
appinted ’cause there didn’t. I didn’t know 
what ’twas got up fur then, but when I got up 
the next mornin’ an’ found the air all heated up 
so from it that there wasn’t no comfert breathin’ 


1 86 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


I tho’t I could see throu’ the hull thing. 
Fd notised that Docter Vinson was oncommon 
gifted in ’lustratin’ things so’s ter make ’em 
plain fur folks ter understand ’em, an’ I felt 
more’n certin he’d took that way o’ givin’ ’em 
sum idee o’ what he tho’t futer punishment 
was ter be. I hedn’t heerd o’ his sayin’ what 
he tho’t ’bout it, but I hed heerd he was a 
Methodis’, an’ so o’ course he couldn’t b’lieve 
no other way ’n that it meant everlastin’ 
burnin’ ; but I tho’t if he’d come out an’ sed so, 
an’ giv’ sumbody a chance ter argy the pint 
with him, ’twould a showed more of a Chrst’n 
spirit than ter go ter roastin’ ev’rybody ’fore- 
hand. 


CHAPTER XL 

MR. BERD’S pictures. 

I TOLD Mandy if I could keep comfert’ble 
ter home ’twas all I should try ter do, but 
when I found out the jubylee singers was ter 
giv’ a consart that mornin’ I changed my 
mind pritty sudd’n. I don’t s’pose it could a 
bin hot ’nough ter keep me ’way from that, 
an’ from the crowd that hed maniged ter git 
inter that ampletheter I gess it didn’t keep 
anybody else ’way. ’Fore it begun Doc- 
ter Vinson red a letter from a man that was 
there from down South that ruffled sum 
folkses fethers a leetle I gess. I didn’t under- 
stand what ’twas ’bout very well, but I made 
out that he didn’t ’gree with sum things in 
Docter Cook’s lecter the day ’fore an’ wanted 
folks ter know it, so he ’rote a letter an’ hed 
Docter Vinson read it ter ’em. 

I couldn’t see jest where the trouble was> 
but ’twas plain there was a hitch sum where. 
There was sum men settin’ near me that I gess 
b’longed ter that C. L. C. S. jedgin’ from the 
r’marks they made, but then they’d be sure ter 
find sumthin’ ter criticise anyhow, so it don’t 
foller that there was anything wrong in his 


1 88 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


readin’ it. Wal, I tho’t that consert was the 
butifulest thing I ever heerd in my life, an’ 
I don’t ’xpect I’ll ever ’njoy anything so agin 
till I git ter heav’n. 

I don’t know what ’twas, but there was 
sumthin’ ’bout ther singin’ that made me fur- 
git what a wurld o’ trouble an’ worriment 
this is, an’ that they was only sum o’ them 
black folks that hed alers bin looked down on 
an’ kep’ under foot till they didn’t seem ter 
hev a place anywhere. When I see all that 
’sembly settin’ so still an’ lis’nin’ so ’tentive 
that passige o’ Scripter come inter my head 
where it sez, “ Air they not ministerin’ sperits 
sent forth ter minister unter ’em?” an’ I sed 
grand sarmons an’ lecters is well ’nough, but 
there ain’t nothin’ kin take hold o’ folkses 
hearts like sech singin’ as that. I tho’t fur 
wunce that criticisin’ sosiety’d hev ter shet 
up, an’ when I heerd one of ’em that was set- 
tin’ there say he tho’t they’d got rale proud 
an’ stuck up from bein’ praised up so I flared 
right up. Why, goodness sakes! If the Lord 
hed made sum white folks ter sing as they 
did the wurld wouldn’t hev bin big ’nough 
ter hold ’em, an’ I tho’t ’twas a pity if they 
couldn’t so much as hold ther heads up ’thout 
sumbody’s findin’ fault. 

But I gess there wasn’t many that felt like 
that, fur they kep’ callin’ fur one piece arter 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 189 


anuther as if they’d never let ’em stop, till 
fin’lly they sed they couldn’t sing any more^ 
an’ then one of ’em come out an’ made a 
speech, thankin’ ’em fur lis’nin’ ter ’em (as 
tho’ they’d orter be thanked fur that !), an’ sed 
mebbe they’d come agin next year. Then 
ev’rybody went ter cheerin’ agin, an’ so they 
hed ter sing anuther piece ter make ’em git 
quiet. When they was throu’ they giv’ ’em 
the Chetauquy saloot, an’ more’n that they 
couldn’t do, fur that was tho’t ter be the tallest 
fether they could put in anybody’s cap. I’ve 
heerd they git treated drefful bad in sum 
places, but they couldn’t say they wasn’t used 
well ter Chetauquy. 

I shouldn’t tho’t I could go anywhere agin 
that day if it hedn’t bin fur bearin’ Mr. Berd 
that arternoon, but from what I’d heerd I 
was willin’ ter make consider’ble of a sacker- 
fise ter go, fur he hed the name o’ sayin’ sum- 
thin’ pritty cute when he set out ter. It 
wasn’t what could be called a lecter egsactly — 
I don’t jest know what the name of it was — 
but he’d found out sumhow what invenshuns 
there was goin’ ter be in the next hunderd 
year an’ hed got some of ' em there so’s folks 
could see ’em. I can’t begin ter tell ’bout all 
of ’em, fur ’twould take no end o’ time, but I 
must say it’s wonderful what we’re cornin’ 
ter. Why, ’fore long they’re goin’ ter make 


1 90 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


trunks as big as a house an’ then put wheels 
under ’em, an’ folks kin hitch ’em outer a 
train o’ keers an’ go trav’lin’ ’round as inder- 
pendent as miskeeters there ter Chetauquy. 
It’ll be proper convenyent fur anybody that’s 
goin’ there, fur ’cordin’ ter ’counts ,a good 
sized fam’ly kin live in one of ’em, an’ then 
hev more room ’n they do in sum o’ them 
tents. Then he hed a mashene there that 
they was goin’ ter git up fur takin’ picters, 
an’ the cur’us part of it was that anybody 
didn’t hev ter set fur ’em — all he hed ter do 
was jest ter think whose picter he wanted it 
ter take an’ out ’twould come. 

He was sech a queer talkin’ feller that he 
kept ’em laffin’ all the time, tho’ he didn’t 
’pear ter know what they was doin’ it fur. 
I was feerd he might think they was laffin’ at 
him, but I couldn’t help it anyway myself at 
sum things he sed. When he was goin’ ter 
take sumbody’s picter he wouldn’t call ther 
names right out ’cause he didn’t want ter 
make ’em feel bad, but he’d tell things ’bout 
’em so’s ev’rybody’d know who ’twas goin’ 
ter be ; an’ ’twas a good thing he did, fur 
’twould bin hard work tellin’ who some of 
’em was meant fur. 

When he took out Docter Vinson an’ Doctor 
Cook’s picters nobody could help from laffin’. 
The likeness ter ’em wasn’t strikin’, an’ what 


Nancy Hartshorn cit Chautauqua. 19 1 


there was didn’t flatter ’em any. 1 tho’t furst 
mebbe he was kind o’ givin’ ’em a takin’ off, 
but he was sech a solium lookin’ feller I don’t 
’xpect he’d do sech a thing as that. They 
took it rale good natered at bein’ made out 
ter look so, an’ if they didn’t like it nobody 
knowed it. But ’twasn’t so with the man 
that was leadin’ the singin’ there. When Mr. 
Berd took his picter he got mad ’cause it 
didn’t make him look better, an’ got right up 
an’ giv’ out that there was goin’ ter be a 
fun’ral of sumbody ’round there in a day or 
two. I gess ev’rybody was drefful shocked, 
fur it looked as tho’ he meant ter kill Mr. 
Berd. 

His feelin’s must hev bin hurt awful, fur he 
didn’t look like a man that would hurt any- 
body ’nless he was terr’ble aggervated. I 
gess they fixed it up ’tween ’em sumway, fur 
’twas giv’ out next day that the fun’ral hed 
bin put off awhile, but I. couldn’t help think- 
in’ ’twould a bin better if he hedn’t showed 
out sech a sperit ’fore folks. 

That evenin’ Marier come in ter set a spell, 
an’ when I Avas tellin’ her what 1 tho’t ’bout 
it she sed he was jest jokin’, but there can’t 
anybody make me b’lieve he wasn’t in airnest. 
She run on talkin’ ’bout things, an’ pritty soon 
she sez, “ I don’t know’s I heerd ye say yit 
how ye liked Chetauquy, Mis Hartshorn.” 


192 Na7icy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


Her axin’ took me sort o’ by s’prise, an’ 
I didn’t know jest how ter anser, so I 
sez, I ain’t made up my mind yit.” She 
laifed, an’ sez she, ‘‘ I should think ’twas ’bout 
time, seein’ ter-morrer’s the last day,” an’ 
sure ’nough, I tho’t, ’twas. I’d hed so much 
ter do ter take it all in that I hedn’t hed time 
ter think whether I liked it or not. I knowed 
I’d be axed a good many times, an’ I wanted 
ter know how ter giv’ my ’pinyun better’n 
that ; so I went ter thinkin’ what I should say, 
but I found ’twasn’t so easy as I ’xpected 
makin’ up my mind. 

There was sum things I liked, an’ then agin 
there was sum I wasn’t so well pleased with, 
an’ I sed ter myself I’d like ter know how 
other folks looked at it. I’ve found it’s a 
good deal o’ help sumtimes ter know what 
sumbody else thinks when I ain’t quite clear 
on any pint ; so I tho’t pr’aps I’d better wait 
till I’d hed a chance ter find out ’fore I 
’xpressed myself ’bout it. It struck me I’d 
begin by axin’ Marier, so I sez, “ How d’ye 
like it yerself ?” 

Now Marier’s bin ’round sum and seen 
things, an’ she never goes fur praisin’ any- 
thing up much, fur fear it’ll look as if she 
hedn’t seen nothin’ better. I wasn’t ’xpect- 
in’ much from her, so I didn’t feel any 
s’prised ter hear her say, “ Oh, I like it very 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 193 


well, considerin’ one can’t ’xpect perfeckshun. 
There’s a good many things might be im- 
proved on, but I s’pose they do the best they 
kin,” an’ she looked as if she tho’t if ’twas 
left ter her she could fix things a nashun 
sight better. T didn’t ax her what they was, 
fur I didn’t consider that that was anything 
r’mark’ble if ’twas so. As fur as my ’xpe- 
r’ence goes 1 ain’t found many things in 
this wurld that can’t be ’mproved on, an’ I 
tho’t I shouldn’t lay it up agin Chetauquy 
if that was the wurst that could be sed 
’bout it. 

I wasn’t goin’ ter ’low myself ter be pre- 
judised by what she sed, anyway. 

Bime by, when she an’ Mandy was talkin’ 
so they didn’t notis me, I slipped out ter 
take a leetle walk. ’Twas pleasant bein’ out 
o’ doors, an’ it seemed as if ev’rybody hed 
found it out an’ was takin’ a walk too, an’ yit 
when I went over ter the ampletheter I see 
that was as full as ever. When I come up 
ter it an’ stood lookin’ down on that big 
congregashun, I ^couldn’t help wonderin 
what ’twas that made folks so willin’ ter go 
ter them meetin’s an’ set fur two hour lis nin 
ter a lecter when they was all so wore out 
an’ ’twas so stiflin’ hot in a crowd. 

There was sumthin’ ’bout it I couldn t 
’count for, but I set it down as wuth speak. 


194 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 

in’ of, an’ if anybody kin ’xplain it they kin 
do more’n I kin. While 1 was standin’ there 
there was sum young wimmin come ’long 
an’ stopped near me, an’ one of’ em sez, “ I 
think it’s awful poky here. There ain’t noth- 
in’ goin’ on but jest them horrid meetin’s, 
an’ I wouldn’t giv’ a straw ter go ter any 
of ’em. I ain’t hed a bit good time sence 
I’ve bin here.” Wal, I hev,” sez the other 
one, “ I’ve bin out on the lake most ev’ry 
night, an’ ter Jamestown an’ Mayvill, an’ I’ve 
got ’cquainted with lots o’ folks. There’s ever 
so many nice lookin’ fellers here,” sez she, 
turnin’ round ter watch sum that was jest 
passin.’ “ If there was a thousan’ ’twouldn’t 
do me no good,” sez the first one. “ I ain’t 
bin invited ter go anywhere, an! the only 
thing I’ve hed was sum ice cream, an’ that 
I paid fifteen cents fur, an’ twasn’t very good 
neither,” an’ she looked as pervoked as if 
she’d bin treated shameful. ’Twasn’t con- 
solin’, and I didn’t wonder she didn’t like 
it there. 

Come ter think of it, I rec’lected that there 
hedn’t bin no parties or balls or picknicks, or 
nothin’ of that sort fur them that didn’t want 
ter go ter the meetin’s, an’ I tho’t ’twasn’t 
jest the thing ter invite folks ter come there 
and not pervide anything ter entertain ’em. 

I was glad I’d heerd what they sed, fur 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua,^ 195 


’twouldn’t ever ’curred ter me if I hedn’t, an* 
I tho’t I’d keep my ears open an’ see what 
else I could hear. 

While I was lookin’ ’round I see two men 
leanin’ up aginst a tree not fur off, an’ I felt 
’most sure they was talkin’ ’bout Chetauquy. 
I kept edgin’ ’long towards ’em till I got 
near ’nough ter hear what they was sayin/ 
an’ sure ’nough one of ’em sez, I think the 
hull thing is a money-makin’ consarn, any- 
way. Them that’s runnin’ it air goin’ ter 
git rich out of it, an’ they kin ’ford ter puff 
it up.” 

The other one laffed, and sez, I ’xpect 
they’d say they hed a right ter make money 
any way they wanted ter, but I gess they 
won’t get rich very fast if what 1 hear is true. 
A man told me ter-day that it cost so much 
to keep it goin’ that it took all the money 
they got ter pay ’xpenses.” 

“ That does well ’nough ter talk, but I don’t 
b’lieve a word of it,” sez the furst one. 
“ ’Tain’t very likely they’re doin’ all this fur 
nothin’, but I kal’late'my money won’t help’em 
much in futer.” 

He spoke so cross I didn’t know but sum- 
body’d bin cheatin’ him was what made him 
feel so. 

They went ter talkin’ ’bout sum thin’ else 
then, but I’d heerd ’nough ter set me ter 


196 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


thinkin’ pritty hard, an’ I sed if them ’sembly 
fellers was gougin’ folks an’ not givin’ ’em the 
wuth o’ ther money they’d orter be took up 
fur it. I hedn’t heerd nothin’ ’bout it ’xceptin’ 
what that man had sed, an’ that made me 
think mebbe he wasn’t right ’bout it. I ’lowed 
there was sum things I hedn’t liked overmuch, 
but that ain’t sayin’ I didn’t feel paid fur goin’. 
I’d seen an’ heerd ’nough ter giv’ me sum- 
thin’ ter think of fur a good while, an’ I 
reckon I shouldn’t a begredged the money if 
it hed bin twice as much, an’ as long as 
I couldn’t make no complaint on that ’count 
I didn’t mind who the money went ter. But 
sum folks ain’t that way. They alers want 
to know who is goin’ ter git ther money, an’ 
whether they ain’t gittin’ more’n b’longs 
ter ’em, an’ it’s nat’ral they shouldn’t ’njoy 
spendin’much when there’s any dout ’bout it. 

I tho’t I’d heerd all I wanted ter that night, 
an’ I walked back, wonderin’ what sort o’ 
wurld this would be if ev’rybody tho’t jest 
like ’bout ev’rything. It looked as if I’d hev 
a hard time in makin’ up my mind if I hed 
ter go by what other folks sed, fur I was a 
good ways further off from knowin’ how I 
liked it than I was ’fore I’d heerd anything. 


CHAPTER XIL 


GETTING READY TO GO HOME. 

The next mornin’ ev’rybody was stirrin' 
pritty airly, packin’ up an’ gittin’ ready ter go 
home. A great many was goin’ that day, an’ 
I would a bin glad ter, but there was ter be a 
percesshun in the arternoon an’ sum ’lurnina- 
shuns in the evenin’, an’ I couldn’t git Mandy 
ter budge an inch till she’d seen all there was 
ter see. 

We sed we’d git our things packed up, an’ 
then we could go ter meetin’s arterwards, an’ 
I went at it an’ did what I hed ter do ’fore she’d 
hardly begun. It did seem as tho’ she’d never 
git things ter suit her. She’d put sum thin’ in 
her trunk, an’ then she’d take it out an’ fold 
it up diff’runt an’ put it back agin’, till I fin’lly 
got out o’ all pashunce and put on my bunnit 
and started out ter see what I could, leavin’ 
her to spend all the time fussin’ that she 
wanted ter. Seein’ folks was mostly headed 
fur the landin’ I tho’t likely that would be as 
good a place ter go as any, so I went down 
there an’ took a seat where 1 could watch 
things, an’ I must say I ’njoyed it as much as 
I would goin’ ter a show. 


198 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


’Twas rale ’musin’ ter see how much trouble 
sum of ’em hed in gittin’ off. They’d come 
hurryin’ down carryin’ all sorts o’ boxes an’ 
bundles, an’ when they got there like as not 
the woman would find she’d furgot sumthin’, 
an’ then the man would go ter scoldin’ an’ she’d 
go runnin’ back arter it, or, if he was one o’ the 
pashunt kind, he’d go himself. There was a 
good many that ’peared ter hev furgot sum- 
thin’, but I didn’t see but jest two men goiii’ 
back arter it. 

Then there wasn’t no end o’ trouble with 
them fellers that was cartin’ trunks. They 
didn’t seem ter git anybody’s trunks there as 
soon as they’d orter, an’ they didn’t ’pear ter 
keer much whether they did or not; but I 
’xpect they was so ust ter bein’ scolded at that 
it didn’t make no ’mpresshun on ’em. ’Twas 
lucky fur ’em that ev’rybody was ’bleeged 
ter hire ’em ter take ther trunks, fur folks hed 
ter pay whatever they sed, whether they 
wanted ter or not ; but then I don’t s’pose 
anpbody’d bin willin’ ter lift sum o’ them 
trunks ’thout they was paid what ’twas wuth. 
There was sum grumblin’, o’ course — I kal’late 
there’ll alers be ’nough o’ that this side o’ 
heav’n. I heerd one man say ter the man at 
the gate, I should call this a payin’ instetu- 
shun. It’s pay ter git in, an’ pay ter stay in, 
an’ pay ter git ’way. If I hev money ’nough 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqtia, 199 


left ter git home ’tain’t ’cause ye hevn’t tried 
hard ’nough ter git it,” but I gess he was 
jokin’, fur ’tain’t likely anybody wanted ter 
git his money ’way from him. 

Bime by there was two men come ’long an’ 
set down ther sachels near where I was, an’ 
stood there talkin’ while the}'' was waitin’ fur 
the boat. They was smart lookin’ men, an’ I 
set ’em down right off fur preachers or docters. 
I didn’t notis what they was talkin’ ’bout till I 
heerd ’em say sumthin’ ’bout Chetauquy an’ 
then I was all ears in a minit. When I begun 
ter lis’en one of ’em was sayin’, “ I look upon 
it as one o’ the grandest idees that ever was 
tho’t of. We come here from diff’runt parts 
o’ the country an’ git new idees ’bout things, 
an’ larn sumthin’ that’ll be of use ter us fur 
years. Folkses brains air apt ter git rusty if 
they don’t use ’em a good deal, an’ this is a 
good pla^e ter polish ’em up. I alers go 
’way from here feelin’ more like work’n I did 
when I come.” “Yes,” sez the other, “it’s a 
magnifersent int’lectoral feast (I think that’s 
what he called it) all the time, from the 
furst day* till the last. I could hardly git 
throu’ the year ’thout the help I git from 
Chetauquy.” Then they went ter talkin’ 
’bout the lecter the night ’fore, but I didn’t 
mind what they sed ’bout that, fur I was bizzy 
thankin’ my stars that I happ’ned ter be there 


200 Nancy Hartshorn at Chant auqua. 


an’ hear what I hed. I tho’t ther ’pinyun was 
wuth considerin’, seein’ that they was edicated 
men an’ cap’ble o’ jedgin^ an’ what sech folks 
sed ’bout it was what I was wantin' ter know. 

It ’peared ter me they was a good deal eat 
up with it, but on the hull I tho’t I’d be safe 
in thinkin’ as they did. Then it struck me 
that bein’ preachers they’d nat’rally hev a 
takin’ fur that kind o’ thing, an’ couldn’t jedge 
fur other folks. That got me all onsettl’d 
agin, an’ I set there tryin’ ter think how ter 
’range matters till I got a drefful headache 
from botherin’ my brains so over it. 

But I fin’lly got it fixed ter my mind, an’ 
I sed ter myself if anybody axed me what I 
tho’t o’ Chetauquy I should tell ’em that if 
anybody was goin’ fur a frolick an’ hevin’ a 
good time ’twasn’t no place fur ’em, nur fur 
folks that was keerful ’bout spendin’ money 
an’ wanted a reseet fur all they paid out. 
But fur them that wanted ter improve ’em- 
selves an’ didn’t keer fur much else there 
wasn’t nothin’ like it. 

Then ’twas a good place, too, fur folks that 
got ther livin’ by critisizin’, fur they’d alers 
find plenty ter do there. I must say I felt a 
good deal sat’sfyed with the way I’d settl’d 
it, fur I ’lowed it kivered the hull ground an’ 
looked as tho’ I’d bin Usin’ my eyes ter sum 
’count. I didn’t b’lieve Docter Vinson him- 


Nancy Hartshorn at ChatUanqua, 201 


self could a told it any better, an’ I tho’t I 
was desarvin’ o’ a good deal o’ credit fur 
makin’ it so plain, considerin’ that my ’pinyun 
would be likely ter hev sumthin’ ter do in 
makin’ up other folkses minds. 

Wal I didn’t set there long arter that, fur I i 
happ’ned ter think that I didn’t r’member o’ 
seein’ m}^ gold specs anywhere when I was 
pickin’ up my things, an’ that started me back 
pritty quick. I got ter wurryin’ drefful while 
I was goin’, fur I knowed if I’d gone an’ lost 
them air specs I’d never hear the last of it as 
long as I lived. I’d got ’long so fur ’thout 
losin’ anything, but I sed ’twould be jest my 
luck ter hev dropped ’em sumwhere. The 
more I tho’t of it the more I was sure I hed, 
an’ I got in sech a state o’ mind that I don’t 
know what I should a’ done if it hedn’t a 
come ter me jest ’fore I got there that when 
I was dressin’ I put ’em under the piller 
so’s they’d be safe, an’ when I walked in an’ 
went an’ looked there they was jest where I 
put ’em, an’ I don’t b’lieve anybody ever was 
so much r’lieved as I was. 

Mandy hed maniged ter git her packin’ 
done, an’ I found her ter work tryin’ ter clean 
up her silk dress. ‘‘ It’s too bad,” sez she, “ my 
dress is jest ’bout spiled. I don’t b’lieve I’ll 
ever git it clean agin.” I wanted ter tell her 
’twasn’t no wonder, the way she’d bin trapsin’ 


202 Nancy Hartshorn at ChatUauqua. 


'round in it, but I tho’t ’twasn’t best. “ There 
ain’t nothin’ like a black alpacky fur knockin’ 
'bout in,” sez I ; but ye ain’t goin’ ter put 
that on ter day, be ye ?” O’ course I am,” sez 
she^ I ’xpect that’s what it’s fur — ter wear.” 
I was beat ter hear her say so, fur it hed bin 
thretenin' ter rain all day, an’ I didn’t s’pose 
she’d be so foolish as ter wear sech a dress as 
that, but I tho’t if she hedn’t any more sense 
'n ter go an’ cut sech a caper she might take 
the consequences — ’twasn’t none o’ my bis- 
ness. 

They’d kal’lated on hevin' the Chetauquy 
percesshun that arternoon ; ev’rybody that 
could was ’xpected ter jine it an’ march 
'round a spell, an’ then they was ter go ter 
the ampletheter, where there was ter be a 
consert ; but there was one thing they’d fur- 
got, an’ that was that the weather ain’t no 
r’specter o’ percesshuns, or conserts, or any- 
thing o' that sort. 

It kept thunderin’ an’ lightnin’ all the time 
they was gittin' ready, an’ jest arter they’d 
got started the rain come pourin’ down like 
ev’rything an’ set ’em all runnin’ helter skelter 
ter git under kiver. Most of ’em run ter the 
ampletheter, but sum was bound they 
wouldn’t giv’ it up that way, an’ when it let 
up a bit they started in agin an’ right on, 
notwithstandin’ it kept rainin’ harder every 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 203 

minit. I gess they didn’t ’njoy it very much 
tho’, fur when they come marchin’ long inter 
the ampletheter, all drippin’ wet, with ther 
flags trailin’ down, they was the sorryest 
lookin’ percesshun anybody ever see. 

Seemed as tho’ they’d orter hev sumthin’ 
ter inkurrige ’em fur showin’ so much grit, 
an’ so folks went ter cheerin’ ’em as hard as 
they could, but they was sech a furlorn look- 
in’ set that they broke down at it an’ hed ter 
go ter laflin’ instid. ’T wasn’t very good man- 
ners, but as long’s ev’rybody jined in nobody 
could ’bject. Wal, it kept thunderin’ an’ 
lightnin’ an’ rainin’, an’ it looked fur awhile 
as tho’ a second delluge was cornin’ sure 
’nough. 

There wasn’t nothin’ could be done but ter 
wait fur it ter stop, fur ’twould a took more 
powerful lungs ’n anybody there hed ter be 
heerd in all that noise. ’Twas as good as a 
sarmon ter see all them four or five thousan’ 
folks settin’ there so still, an’ I tho’t mebbe 
’twas ter show ’em that lamin’ an’ culter 
might set folks up pritty high, but it didn’t 
take nothin’ but a right smart thunder shower 
ter shet up their mouths an’ let ’em see what 
insignifercant bein’s they was. 

Arter awhile it stopped rainin’ sum, an’ so 
they begun ther consert; but it kept on thun- 
derin’ yit, an’ when the band was playin’ the 


204 ^cificy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 


furst piece that big drum got all mixed up 
with a clap o’ thunder till there wasn’t no 
tellin’ which was which. The feller that was 
heatin’ it was a good deal put out, but he 
kept poundin’ ’way as hard as he could, an’ 
fin’lly made out ter git strait’ned up agin. 

Then the korus started off. They got ’long 
pritty well fur a leetle ways, an’ then ’long 
come anuther clap o’ thunder an’ knocked 
’em all ter pieces, an’ then it went grumblin’ 
off, leavin’ ’em ter pick ’emselves up as best 
they could. ’Twas ruther hard on ’em ter be 
used so when they’d took so much pains ter 
sing it right, but they bore it r’markable well. 
When the man that was leadin’ ’em giv’ out 
that sum young wimmin was ter sing a piece 
’lone it looked ruther resky, but they ’peared 
ter hev a good deal o’ kurrige, an’ come out 
an’ sung so butiful that even the thunder was 
struck dum an’ furgot ter molest ’em, an’ 
’twas so still they could be heerd clear ter 
the end ; but when folks went ter cheerin’ ’em 
back it come agin ter show ’em they didn’t 
know how ter cheer wuth a cent. They did 
the best they could fur awhile, but they, 
didn’t stand no chance ’tall an’ hed ter giv’ it 
up. It kept it up till they hed ter come out 
an’ sing sum more, so nobody felt like corn- 
planin’. 

If I could think o’ that air French word I 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 205 

heerd a lady say that was settin’ near me, I 
should say ’twas a thunderin’ — inkore I think 
she called it. Anyhow I don’t ’xpect they 
ever hed sech a complyment paid ter ’em 
’fore. Wal, takin’ it all tergether ’twas con- 
sider’ble of a consert. 

Towards the end the thunder got tired 
playin’ with ’em an’ let ’em hev it all ther own 
way an’ then ’twasn’t so good, but seein’ that 
hed a good many year the start of ’em in 
practis ’tain’t t^r be ’xpected they could make 
much of a show. 

When we come ter go home it set in rainin’ 
agin, an’ Mandy was in a great pickle ’bout 
gittin’ her dress wet, but I didn’t pity her 
much. When I see folkses pride git the better 
o’ ther good jedgment I never waste any sim- 
pathy on ’em if they git inter trouble. I 
s’pose I might hev offer’d ter go an’ git sumthin’ 
fur her, but I didn’t, an’ she went soppin’ ’long 
as out o’ sorts as if I’d hed sumthin’ ter do 
with gittin’ up that shower. It rained so 
they hed ter giv’ up ther ’luminashuns in the 
evenin’, which must a bin consider’ble of a 
disapintmunt ter ’em, sence they counted on 
hevin’ sumthin’ pritty big ter wind up with ; 
but they held a meetin’ in the ampletheter 
an’ made speeches, an’ told how they’d ’njoyed 
’emselves, an’ what a nice place ’twas there, 
till it made ev’rybody feel as tho’ they want- 


2 o 6 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


ed ter stay there furever. Then when all was 
sed that could be, an’ ev’rybody’s feelin’s was 
’fected so’s they hed ter use ther handker- 
chers a good deal, Docter Vinson giv’ ’em 
the benedickshun an’ sed the Chetauquy 
’sembly was ter an’ end. 

When I got it throu’ my head that it ralely 
was so I couldn’t help feelin’ sumwhat sorry, 
fur it seemed ter me ’twould be kind of a 
lettin’ down ter go back ter the Corners an’ 
settle down ter goin’ ter preachin’ Sundays 
an’ prayer meetin’ Thursday nights. (I gess 
I was set up a leetle from seein’ an’ bearin’ so 
much, but I don’t know’s ’twas ter be won- 
dered at if I was, seein’ Fd never hed so much 
ter set up on ’fore.) Fur all that, I ’lowed 
’twould be a comfert ter hev a desent bed ter 
sleep on, an’ go ter livin’ more civ’lized. 

Then, ter tell the truth, I hed jest a leetle 
longin’ ter see the Deacon. 

T er be sure he’s got his failin’s an’ apt ter 
be crotchety, an’ I git a good deal out o’ 
pashunce with him sumtimes, but then as 
long’s he’s all the husband Fve got ’tain’t 
wuth while ter lay it up aginst him. I couldn’t 
say he acted jest right ’bout my cornin’ ter 
Chetauquy, but in thinkin’ it over I sed ter 
myself that if he ’peared ter feel sorry fur it 
Fd furgiv’ him, whether he axed me ter or 
not. If Fd wanted ter stay there I should a 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 207 


changed my mind when I woke up next 
mornin’ an’ see ’twas rainin’ agin. It seemed 
as tho’ the weather hed only bin waitin’ fur 
it ter let out ’fore it set in ter rain, an’ I must 
say of all the lonesum places I ever was in 
that took the lead that mornin’. ( 

’T would a bin sort o’ depressin’ anyway 
ter see how desarted it hed begun ter look, but 
with that drizz’lin’ rain failin’ an’ not a speck 
o’ blue sky ter be seen ’twas ’nough ter make 
anybody want ter git ’way as fast as they 
could. We’d ’ranged ter go on the furst 
boat so’s there wouldn’t be sech a crowd, but 
when I see sech sights of ’em goin’ down ter 
take it I sed ter Mandy I knowed well ’nough 
it couldn’t carry ’em all, an’ we’d hev ter be 
left if we wasn’t there airly ; but I don’t ’xpect 
anything on airth could a made her hurry 
herself. She kept fussin’ an’ fixin’ till I got 
in sech a fidgit I hed hard work ter keep 
from sayin’ sumthin’ pritty, sharp. I hed ter 
wait much as half ’n hour fur her. I’m certin, 
an’ then she went ’fore she was ready. 

Mr. Baker sed he’d ’tend ter gittin’ our 
trunks there, so we didn’t hev the trouble o’ 
seein’ ter that ; an’ I was thankful we didn’t, 
fur I hed a hard ’nough time of it as ’twas. 
What with hurryin’ so fur fear we’d git left, 
an’ carry in’ my umbrel an’ bandbox, an hold- 
in’ up my dress, I hed all I could ’tend ter. 


2o8 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


Then them pesky rubbers they hev now- 
days is alers cornin’ off, an’ I hed ter stop 
ev’ry leetle ways an’ pull ’em on ; an’ as if all 
that wasn’t ’nough ter try my pashunce, when 
I was try in’ ter git past a man that wouldn’t 
git out o’ my way his umbrel hit my bun- 
nit an’ knocked that all outer one side, an’ 
by the time I got down ter the landin’ I 
was a pritty lookin’ figger ! ’Twas so per- 
vokin’, fur when I see how them folks acted 
the day ’fore I sed ter myself when I got 
ready ter go I wouldn’t hurry an’ act so 
redic’lous, but I’d go sort o’ dignyfied an’ 
proper, an’ ter think I’d gone an’ done jest 
the same way was, I sh’d say, ’xasperatin’, 
an’ the more so ’cause ’twas all on Mandy s 
’count, for if she hedn’t hendered me so ’bout 
startin’ there wouldn’t a bin no need o’ hur- 
ryin’ so. 

The wurst of all was that it made me fur- 
git ter go and tell Dr. Vinson an’ that editer 
good-by. 

Ter be sure I didn’t know Docter Vinson 
very well, but I felt consider’ble ’cquainted 
with the editer, an’ ’twouldn’t a bin nothin’ 
but good manners ter say good-by ter ’em. 
I tho’t prob’ble they’d think strange of it 
’cause I didn’t, an’ it’s worked me ever sence. 
(If I ever go there agin I mean to ’xplain it 
ter ’em how ’twas.) 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua. 209 


When we’d giv’ our tickets ter the man at 
the gate (fur a wonder there wasn’t nothin’ 
wrong with ’em) we went ’long onter the 
boat, an’ when I see how much room there 
was I tho’t I needn’t a hurrid so ; but then I 
ain’t sure I should a wanted ter go on that 
boat if we’d waited, fur they kept cornin’ an’ 
cornin’ till ’twas full from one end ter tother, 
an’ it made it settle down inter the water so 
I ’xpected ’twould sink certin. 

I sed ter Mandy that ’twas jest temptin’ 
Providence fur ’em ter try an’ carry so many, 
an’ I shouldn’t be a bit s’prised if we should 
all go ter the bottom. 

It r’lieved me sum when we got started off, 
so’s there couldn’t any more git on, but I 
didn’t draw an easy breath all the time I was 
on it. I was worryin’ so ’bout it that I didn’t 
pay so much ’tenshun ter watchin’ folks as I 
ushelly do, but I did notis how tired ev’ry- 
body looked. Sum of ’em ’most looked as 
tho’ they’d hed a fit o’ sickness, an’ I tho’t 
likely they’d bin takin’ too much metyfizics 
an’ they didn’t ’gree with ’em. 

When we got ter Mayville o’ course ev’ry- 
body was in a terr’ble hurry ter git ter the 
keers, an’ they’d run an’ push an’ ’most knock 
any body do>vn tryin’ ter git there furst. 

I was so out o’ pashunce with the way they 
acted that I tho’t I’d set ’em a better egsample 


2 1 o Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


an’ see if ’twouldn’t make ’em behave more 
desent ; so I walked ’long sort o’ slow an’ on- 
consarned ter make it look as tho’ I’d trav’led 
’round a good deal an’ ’xpected things was 
goin’ ter wait fur me if I didn’t hurry, but jest 
then a man come runnin’ ’long carryin’ a big 
sachel, an’ when he was goin’ past me he 
knocked my bandbox out o’ my hand an’ sent 
it a kitin’ ’most inter the lake, an’ while I was 
chasin’ arter that Mandy turned ’round an’ 
sez, “ I’d like ter know what ye’re waitin’ 
fur. There won’t be no gittin’ a seat if ye 
don’t hurry.” So I giv’ it up an’ hurried as 
fast as any of ’em. I found there hedn’t any- 
body saved a seat fur me, an’ I don’t know’s 
I sh’d got one if a man hedn’t giv me his. I 
didn’t r’member ever seein’ him ’fore, but he 
was so r’spectfuL ’bout it that I gess he must 
a knowed who I was. 

I tho’t I’d feel safer when I got onter the 
keers, but matters wasn’t much better then. 

The land is risin’ ’round Mayville an’ it’s 
down hill goin’ way from there, an’ when we 
started an’ kept goin’ faster an’ faster ev’ry 
minit ’twasn’t long ’fore I was in as much 
trouble as ever, for I couldn’t see how in the 
wurld they was ever goin’ ter stop agin with 
such a load as there was. I ’xpected nothin’ 
else but what we’d run off the track an’ all be 
pitched head furst inter sum o’ them gulfs, 


Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


2II 


an’ laberin’ under sech feelin’s 'twasn’t ter be 
wondered at if I wasn’t in a partic’ler com- 
fert’ble frame o’ mind till arter they hed 
stopped wunce or twice, an’ I see they could. 

When 1 got easier ’bout that I went ter 
thinkin’ ’bout gittin’ home, an’ how the ^ 
Deacon would act ter see me. I knowed he’d 
be tickled ’most ter death, but I sed ter my- 
self I did hope he wouldn’t go ter makin’ a 
specticle of himself ’fore ev’rybody — not that 
it’s like him ter show out his feelin’s much, 
but I hedn’t never bin 'way from home so 
long ’fore, an’ I didn’t know but he might. I 
tho’t p’raps I’d better be ruther toppin’ at 
furst ter show him I hedn’t furgot sum things, 
but I couldn’t help feelin’ in a good deal of a 
'Sutter when we got ter the Corners. 

When we come ter the stashun I looked out 
the winder an’ see old Dol hitched there, so I 
see he was ’xpectin’ me, an’ I didn’t hardly 
wait for the keers ter stop ’fore I was ter the 
door. Mandy tried to make me wait a leetle, 
but I wasn’t goin’ ter be held back by her 
that time. She wasn’t ’xpectin’ any husband 
ter meet her, so she couldn’t be 'xpected ter 
understan' my feelin’s. 

It didn’t take me long ter git off when I 
could, and then I begun ter look ’round ter 
find the Deacon. I didn’t hev ter look very 
hard, fur there he stood a few steps ’way, with 


212 Nancy Hartshorn at Chautauqua, 


that old straw hat o’ his restin’ down on his 
ears and an’ old pair o’ pant’loons on that he 
alers wears when he’s doin’ chores ; he didn’t 
hev no coat on’ an’ I should jedge he hedn’t 
shaved for as much as a week, an’ takin’ him 
as he was he wouldn’t hev struck anybody as 
bein’ ’n orn’munt ter the offis of Deacon. 

I tho’t he might hev fixed up sum, seein’ 
he was ’xpectin’ comp’ny from Chetauquy, 
an* it nither took off sumthin’ from my cornin’ 
home ter find him lookin’ so. 

But 1 sed ter myself, mebbe he was in sech 
a hurry he didn’t hev time ter dress himself, 
an’ ’twasn’t best ter lay it up aginst him ; so 
I walked up behind him (fur he hedn’t seen 
me yit) an’ sez I, Wal, Deacon !” He turned 
’round an’ looked at me, an’ sez he, “ Got 
back, hev ye ? Wal, stir ’round and getyer 
traps tergether, fur I ain’t no time to spare,” 
an* as sure’s I’m livin’, if that ain’t as near 
as he ever come ter sayin’ he was glad ter see 
me. Men is sech aggervatin’ bein’s ! 


THE END. 


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1— THE GAMBLER’S WIFE. By Mrs. Grey 20o 

2— PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE. By Charles Reade 20o 

3— AURORA FLOYD. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20o 

4— HANDY ANDY. By Samuel Lover 20o 

5 — JACOB FAITHFUL. By Captain Marry att 15o 

6— I VANHOE. By Sir Walter Scott 20o 

7— NIGHT AND MORNING. By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton 20o 

8— GWENDOLINE’S HARVEST. By James Payne lOo 

9 — WRESTLING JOE. By Ned Buntline 20o 

10— THE TROUBLESOME TWINS. By Edward Harcourt 20o 

11 — A QUEEN AMONG WOMEN. By the author of “Dora Thorne”... lOo 

1 T:'T3TT''7 rpTITT' \T A AT T'r.mT- T>oa+r.T. 1 


13— MONTE MADRON A. By Will B. Schwartz lOo 

14— THE HAUNTED TOWER. By Mrs. Henry Wood lOo 

15— THE WAGES OF SIN. By Miss M. E. Braddon lOo 

16— VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. By Mary Cecil Hay 20o 

17— OTHER FOOLS AND THEIR DOINGS 15« 

. 18— CHRISTIE’S OLD ORGAN. By Mrs. O. F. Walton lOo 

19 — NELLIE, THE CLOCKMAKER’S DAUGHTER lOO 

20— NOT FORSAKEN. By Agnes Giberne lOo 

21— BEDE’S CHARITY. By Hesba Stretton 15o 

122— LIFE OF REV. T. DE WITT TALMAGE, D.D 15o 

'23— THE YOUNG APPRENTICE. By Hesba Stretton lOo 


24— SHEER OFF. By A. L. O. E 15o 

25— IN PRISON AND OUT. By Hesba Stretton lOo 

26— HISTORY OF A THREEPENNY BIT. By J. W. Kirton lOo 

27— FROGGY’S LITTLE BROTHER. By Brenda 15o 

28— WINDOW-CURTAINS. By T. S. Arthur 20o 

29— A THORNY PATH. By Hesba Stretton lOo 

30— THE POOR CLERK AND HIS CROOKED SIXPENCE. By George 

E. Sargent lOo 

31— NINETY-NINE CHOICE READINGS AND RECITATIONS. No. I...IO 0 

32— THE LITTLE CAPTAIN. By Lynde Palmer lOo 

33— THE OCTAGON ; OR, The Old Ferry. By Mrs. M. E. Berry lOo 

34— THE YOUNG WHALER. By W. H. G. Kingston lOo 

35— CHATAUQU A LECTURES lOo 


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86— THE KING’S SERVANTS. By Hesba Stretton. lOo 

37— THE SECRET SORROW. By May Agnes Ilemmg.. . 

38— A SHADOW ON THE THRESHOLD. By Mary Cecil Hay lOo 

39— A LIFE’S SEGWr. By Mrs. Henry Wood 

40— BUFFALO BILL. By Ned Buutline.. ..........^....-^oo 

41— THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN. By tlie author of -A- 

42— PERCY AND THE PROPHET. By Wilkie Collins . 1^0 

43— HISTORY OF ASSASSINATION OF JAMES A. GARIIELD 20o 

44— THAT BEAUTIFUL WRETCH. By William Black lOo 

45— MRS. GEOFFREY. By The Duchess 

46— DORA THORNE 

47— ^OSH BILLINGS’ SPICE-BOX. By Josh Billings lOo 

48— BEAUTIFUL, BUT POOR. By Julia Edwards. lOo 

49— -LIKE NO OTHER LOVE. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

50— THE RUGG DOCUMENTS (First Series). By Clara Augusta lOo 

51— NINETY-NINE CHOICE READINGS AND RECITATIONS, No. 2....100 

52— THE OCTOROON. By Miss M. E. Braddon lOo 

53— THE GRASS WIDOW. By Lieut.-Col. F. E. West lOo 

54— THE RUGG DOCUMENTS (Second Series). By Clara Augusta lOo 

55— FATED TO MARRY. By Mrs. May Agnes Fleming lOc 

56— CAST UPON THE WORLD. By Chas. E. Perine lOC 

57— A DARK INHERITANCE. By Mary Cecil Hay lOo 

58— HILARY’S FOLLY. By the author of “Dora Thome” 10c 

59— COBWEBS AND CABLES. (Part First). By Hesba Stretton 20o 

60— THE RUGG DOCUMENTS (Third Series). By Clara Augusta lOo 

61— CHARLOTTE TEMPLE. By Mrs. Rowsou lOo 

62— A ROGUE’S LIFE. By Wilkie Collins 10c 

63— THE BLACK SPECK. By F. W. Robinson 10c 

64— MISSING. By Mary Cecil Hay lOc 

65— THE RUGG DOCUMENTS (Fourth Series). By Clara Augusta lOc 

66— A GILDED SIN. By theauthor of “Dora Thorne” lOc 

67— BORROWED PLUMES. By Miss Jennie S. Alcott lOc 

68— THE SORROW OF A SECRET. By Mary Cecil Hay lOc 

69— EAST LYNNE. By Mrs. Henry Wood 20o 

70— THE RUGG DOCUMENTS (Fifth Series). By Clara Augusta lOc 

71— THE FATAL LILIES. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOc 

72— THE TALE OF SIN. By Mrs. Henry Wood lOc 

73— OUR GERALDINE. By the author of “A Family History” lOc 

74 — SISTER DORA. By Margaret Lonsdale lOc 

75— A STRANGE DREAM. By Rhoda Broughton lOc 

76— HIS HEART OF OAK. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOc 

77— ROUND THE MOON. By Jules Verne lOc 

78— THE SHADOW IN THE HOUSE. By Eliza A. Dupuy lOc 

79— A GREAT ATONEMENT. By tne author of “ An Error of Love”..10o 

80— THORNS OR GRAPES? By the author of “ His Victoria Cross”. .. .lOc 

81— SHE WOULD BE A LADY. By the author of “ Love’s Devotion’MOo 

82— THE PRIVATE SECRETARY. By the author of “ The Battle of 

Dorking” 15o 

83— THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER. By Mrs. Henry Wood lOc 

84— LOVE IN IDLENESS. By the author of “ Loveday” lOc 

85— THE LITTLE EARL. By Oiiida lOc 

86— WON FOR A WAGER. By Mary N. Holmes 10c 

87— LIL: “Fair, Fair, With Golden Hair.” By' Mrs. Fetherstonhaugh.. .lOc 

88— IN THE HOLIDAYS. By Mary Cecil Hay lOc 

89— PROPOSING TO HER. By Emma S. South worth lOc 

90— BACK TO THE OLD HOME. By Mary Cecil Hay ..lOc 

91— THE LITTLE WIDOW. By the author of “ Bertie” ’. . lOo 

92— UNDER LIFE’S KEY, andOther Stories. By Mary Cecil Hay lOc 

93— JANE EYRE. By Charlotte Bronte 20o 

94— FIGHTING HER WAY. By Rose Ashleigh 20o 

95 — A CUNNING WOMAN. By the author of “ liudydurd’s Penitence”10o 

96 — INTO THE SHADE, and Other Stories. By Maiy Cecil Hay 10c 

97 — TWICE STOLEN. By the author of “ Tempted by Gold”.' lOo 

98— THE FUGITIVES. By Mrs. Oliphaut lOo 

09— HER FACE TO THE FOE. By Mary N. HoliUGa. ,10o 


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101— THAT AMAZING PROFESSOR lOo 

102 — A HAPPY RELEASE. By tlie author ol “ Constance Dare” lOo 

103— HER DARING VENTURE. By author of “ MildrecTs Mistake ” . . lOo 

104— THE FIGURE IN THE CORNER. By i''fiss M. E. Braddon 10c 

105— DARKEST BEFORE DAWN lOo 

106— LADY AUDLEY’S SECRET. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20o 

107— “ CASK SEVENTEEN.” By Sophy S. Burr lOo 

108 — WIFE OR WIDOW ? By tlie author of “ The Missiug Diamonds. ”10o 

109— GILT AND GOLD. By the author of “A Wife’s Honor.” lOo 

110— A WIFE’S ORDEAL. By EminaS. Southworth lOo 

111— SOUGHT AND SAVED. By M. A. Pauli 20o 

112— THE MISSING DIAMONDS. By the author of “Wife or Widow P’lOo 

113— BY FAITH ALONE. By Nellie F. Haynes lOo 

114— THE MYSTERY OF CEDAR COURT lOo 


116— HER FIRST LOVE. By the author of “Miss Littoii’s Lovers ”..10o 

117— MRS. CAUDLE’S CURTAIN LECTURES. By Douglas Jerrold. . .lOo 

118— HEIRESS TO A MILLION lOo 

119— COBWEBS AND CABLES. (Part Second). By Hesba Stretton....l5o 

120— LIONEL FRANKLIN’S VICTORY. By E. Van Sommer 20o 

121— WAS HE SEVERE? By Mrs. Heurv Wood lOo 

122— BRENDA YORKE. Bv Mary Cecil Hav lOo 

123— THE SAD FORTUNES OF THE REV. AMOS BARTON. lOo 


By George Eliot lOo 

124— THE HAUNTED MAN. By Charles Dickens 100 

125— OWEN’S HOBBY. By Elmer Burleigh 20o 

126— LADY MARABOUT’S TROUBLES. By “Ouida” lOo 

127— A CHRISTMAS CAROL. By Charles Dickens lOo 

128— THAT BEAUTIFUL LADY. By the author of “Dora Thorne”. . . .lOo 

129— CHRISTO WELL. By R. D Blackuiore 20o 

130— THE THREE COUSINS. By Mrs. May Agnes Fleming lOo 

131— THE LOST BANK-NOTE. By Mrs. Henry Wood lOo 

132— MACON MOORE. By Judson R. Taylor 20o 

133— DICK NETHERBY. By L. B. Walford lOo 

134— A GOLDEN DAWN. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

135— THE FARMER’S DAUGHTERS lOo 

136— MY DARLING’S RANSOM. By Richard Dowling lOo 

137— WEDDED AND PARTED. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

138— HIS SECRET. By Miss M. E. Braddon lOo 

139— A FROZEN SEA. By Wilkie Collins lOo 

140— MARJORIE’S TRIAL. By the author of “A Cunning Woman” lOo 

141— RETURNED TO LIFE. By G erald Burro lOo 

142— A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

143— THE CLOVEN FOOT. By Miss M. E. Braddon 200 

144— NUMA ROUMESTAN. By Alphonse Daudet lOo 

145— YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE. By Wilkie Collins lOo 

146— THE CAPTAINS’ ROOM. By Walter Besant and James Pfice lOo 

147— TOM YORKE’S LEGACY. By Edward Garrett lOo 

148— A DOUBLE BOND. By Linda Villari lOo 

149— HIS GREAT REVENGE lOo 

150— DIED YOUNG. By Elmer E. Russell. lOo 

151— HIS PHANTOM BRIDE lOo 

152— TWO KISSES. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

153— “A BAND OF THREE.” By L. T. Meade .... . .lOo 

154— THE WHITE NUN. By author of “ The Bondage of Brandon ”..10o 

155— LOVE’S SACRIFICE. By W. G. V alenn lOo 

156— TOM TIDDLER’S GROUND. By Charles Dickens 10c 

157— THE LADY OF HAZEL PLACE. By Geo. Manvillo Fenn lOc 

158— A GREAT JOURNEY. By Miss M. E. Braddon - 

159— THE SHATTERED IDOL. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

160— A BRIDEGROOM’S SIN, and other tales. By Miss Mulock. 10c 

161_A D \TNTY LADY. By tlie autnor of “A Guiltless Prodigal” lOo 

162— THE BRIDE OF AN HOUR, and WHY THEY PARTED lOc 

163— A DANGEROUS KISS lOo 

164— HEARTBROKEN 


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165— MISJUDGED; OR, The Troubles of a City Man lOo 

166— ‘‘A LUCKY GIRL.” By the author of “A Cunning Woman” lOo 

167— MR. SHUM’S PROPERTY. By Geo. Manville Fenn lOo 

168 — NINE TY NINE CHOICE READINGS AND RECITATIONS, No. 3. 

Compiled by J. S. Ogilvio lOo 

100— THE COLLEGE BOYS. By Mrs. Heury Wood 20c 

170 _OSCAR WILDE’S POEMS AND LECTURE lOo 

171— PEG W OFFINGTON. By Charles Reade lOo 

172— THE SOUIRE’S DARLING. By the author of “ Dora Thorne . .10c 

173— THE MAN WITH RED HAIR. By W. E. NorriS 10c 

174— HER SOLEMN PROMISE lOc 

175— THE- PHANTOM WIFE. By Molly Myrtle lOc 

176_“HI8 BONNIE BRIDE.” By E. Duudas lOo 

177_W0N by a RUSE. By L. Lansfeldt lOo 

178— MY LIFE’S RANSOM. By Miss Mulock lOc 

179— -AN UNEQUAL STAKE. By the author of “A Cunning Woman.”10o 

180— THE WITHERED LEAP. By“Ouida.” lOc 

181— -A SISTER’S SACRIFICE. By Mary Cecil Hay lOo 

182— WEAVERS AND WEFT. By Miss M. E. Braddon 15o 

183— “NO CARDS, NO CAKE.” By Julia McNair Wright 20o 

184^-THE BALD EAGLE. By Elizabeth Oakes Smith lOo 

185— AN UNNATUK .4L BONDAGE. By the author of “ Dora Thorne”10o 

186 - A BIG FISH lOo 

187 -WAS IT A CRIME? lOo 

188 -MAD TO GET MARRIED lOo 

189- A DOUBLE SURPRISE lOo 


190- -ONLY A DOG; OK, Federal or Confederate? By Mildred 

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191- SAVED BY LOVE. By Emma S. Southworth lOo 

192- THE COUNTESS’ SECRET lOo 

193- -DAPHNE’S CHAMPIONSHIP. By the author of “A Cunning 

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194- -THE DOCTOR’S PATIENT. By the author of “Wife or Widow ?”10o 

195- -BAREFOOT BILLY’S FORTUNE. By Gaffer Gray lOc 

196- ARNOLD’S PROMISE. By the author of “Dora Thorne” lOo 

197 RIP VAN WINKLE, and other sketches. By Washington Irving. lOc 

1 OQ TTTT.'nA "Rtr nf “ T^n-pn. T'hf»T>n A ” OOa 


199— THE LOVE BLOSSOM. By Jennie S. Alcott lOo 

200- -MARRIED AND DESERTED lOo 


The People’s Library is the most jy^pular, and contains nothing but 
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The almost universal high price of first-class Songs and Music has prevented 
the general use of it, and we have just issued, in convenient form, 

M Popular Songs, 

I 1 

■WOUIDS ^JSTJD UyLTJSIO. 

PRICE iO CENTS. 

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TTlie following: is tlie Wst of tlie Pieces in No. I. 

CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE. 

I Cannot Sing the Old Songs. Her Bright Smile. 

Within a Mile of Edinboro’ Town. Oft in the Stilly Night. 

Scenes that are Brightest. Thoii art Gone from My Gaze. 

When the Swallows Homeward Fly. We Met by Chance. 

Shells of the Ocean. The Old Arm-Chair. 

Annie O’ the Banks O’ Dee. Katy’s Letter. 

Robin Adair. Maiy of Argyle. 

The cost of the Words and Music, if printed in the large sheet-music form, 
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Otlicr Fools and tlieir doings: or Life Among the Frcedmen. 
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This is a story of intense interest and great power, portraying, as it does, real life 
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The truthful delineation of southern character, both among the white and colored 
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1 III Prison find Out. By Hesba Stretton. 

12mo., 206 pages 75 

This is one of the most touching rchgious stories ever written by this gifted and 
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Slieer OUT. By A. L. O. E. 12 mo. 243 pages 75 

The fame of this author is world-wide, and this has been pronounced one of her 
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IVot Forsaken. By Agnes Giherne. 12mo., 224 pages. , , 75 

This excellent story shows the efficacy of having an abiding faith in God, and 
and is a valuable book to put into the hands of children everywhere. 

Nellie, llae CBockmaker’s IDaiigliter. 

12mo,, 225 pages 75 

This story shows the great faith which Kellie had in God’s caring for all who 
put their trust and hope in Kim, and shows the power which she had for go6d 
over all with whom she came in contact. It is an excellent story for girls. 

Tlie Young Apprentiec. By Hesba Stretton. 

12mo., 220 pages 75 

This is a story showing the early trials of a boy who had determined to do right 

at any sacrihee, and his final victory over many obstacles. A splendid book for 

boys and young men. 

Bede’s Charity. By Hesba Stretton 75 

This story by this wonderful author, is one of h^r best, and shows the duty of 
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This is one of the most successful humorous books of the present day, filled with 
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^^cldl*0S3 ' 

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“ Not a dull line in them ” is the criticism which has been made on a series 
of papers written by 

one of the most popular and successful writers of the present day. Each 
article is short, sharp, crisp, and humorous, and cannot fail to give satisfaction 
to the hundreds of thousands of her literary admirers in all parts of the land. 
These articles are published under the title of 



and will be issued in parts, each part containing 64 pages. Price, 10 cents. 
The following is the 


CONTENTS OF PART FIRST. 


How to Carry an Umbrella. 
Suggestions to Piano Players. 
Street Car Etiquette— For Ladies. 
Useless Women. 

Smart Men. 

Tight Boots. 

The Man who Argues. 

Be “ On Hand.” 

At Church. 

Humorous Writing. 

How to be Fashionable. 


A Word to Husbands. 

A Word to Wives. 

Long-faced Christians. 

How to bring up a Child. 

Ugly People’s Compensations. 
Good Health. 

Self- confidence. 

Superstitions of New England. 
Fashionable Lies. 

How to Write a Successful Book. 
Moderate Drinkers. 


The above articles are all specially adapted for public and private readings 
combining as they do, sharp criticism, humor, and abounding in real good 
sense. All persons interested in providing an evening’s entertainment, will 
find this collection a great help to them. 

The different parts are always for sale by every Newsdealer and Bookseller 
in the land. Buy a copy of Part First and you will not be disappointed. It 
will be sent by mail, post-paid to any address on receipt of 10 cents. Address 

Sa OCILVIE & CO. 9 Publishers, 

25 Rose Street^ New York, 


Sometliiiig to Read! 


$10.00 WOKTH FOE $1.50! 


"We desire to call tlie attention of lovers of "pure fiction to 
the fact that we now offer, in hound booh fornny the following 
seven complete stories, written by 

Miss Mo Il5»a<l<l©ii5 

one of the most popular and pleasing authors in the world, 
and which are usually sold, in book form, for from ^1.25 to 
^1.50 EACH. 

We offer the Seven Stories, bound in handsome English 
cloth, with elegant ornamental gold side and back stamp, 
sent by mail, post-paid, to any address, for only ^1.50! Bound 
in heavy paper covers, $1.00. 

List @f St®r!®s m §§!l for Sl.iO: 

Lady A-aidley’s Secret, 

The Octoroon, 

The Cloven Foot, 

Hig Secret, 

A Wavering Image, 
The Wages of Sin, 
Aurora Floyd. 

These stories are printed on fine heavy paper, from large, 
pew type, and we guarantee satisfaction in eveiy 7'espect to all 
purchasers. 

Ask your bookseller for “SOMETHING TO READ,” writ- 
ten by Miss M. E. Braddon, and published by us; or send 
$1.50 to us and we will send them by mail, post-paid. 

The stories are not sold separately in this form. We 
want Agents to sell them in every town and village in the 
whole land, to whom we offer liberal terms. 

Address all orders and applications for Agency to 

J. S. miimi h 00., PyblishgB, 

P. O. Bos 2767. 25 Rose Street, New York. 


r 


FTTH 




OF 



By M. BBOWN. 

Complete edition, 12mo, 544 pages ; handsomely bound in cloth. 

Price, ^1.^0, 

With fine, full-page illustrations, including portraits of Mrs. 
Minnie Hardscrabble, the minister’s wife, from the facts 
and incidents in whose life the story was written ; also, 
Eev. John Hardscrabble, with three other characteristic 
engravings, which will amuse and interest every reader. 

The immense success of this book as it was issued in parts bespeak for 
it a cordial reception. 

One editor says of it: “Some Itinerant’s wife has been giving her 
experience out of meeting.” 

Says one who has lived in the family of a minister for over a quarter 
of a century: “It’s funny; yes, it’s very funny; but it’s true — its all 
true. Let those who want to know the ups and downs of the life of a 
minister and his v;ife read this book.” 

Another reader says of it: “ Send me the next part of The Diaht. I 
have never read a book in which I was so much interested, and amused 
at the same time. The story of the* trials of Mrs. Hardscrabble with 
the “Doolittles” is alone worth ten times the cost .of the book. Every 
one should buy it, and let their minister and his wife read it.” 

It is for sale by newsdealers and booksellers everywhere, or it wiU be 
mailed on receipt of price. *Send all orders to 

J. S. OGILVIE & CO.5 Publishers, 


P. O. Box 2767. 


3 8 Roso Street, fVlewYcrk 


^ a 



IE*^C3i-JE33 OS’ 



Gathered from the vj’ritings of Mark Twain, 
Josh Billings, Danbury News Man, D?7troit 
Free Press Man, and other Leading 
Humorists of the Day, among 
whom is the Author of 
“A Bad Boy’s Diary.” 

This is one of the b^st books ever issued, containing- more fun than 
is found anywhere else for the same amount of money. Every 
newsdealer and bookseller should have a few copies on hand. 
Price 10 cents, paper cover; bound in handsome board covers, 25 cents. 
Send all orders to 

J. S. OGILVIE & CO., Publishers, 

29 Eose Street/New York. 


Sometliing to Bead! 

$10.00 WOKTH FOE $1.50! 


We desire to call the attention of lovers of pure fiction to 
the fact that we now offer, in hound book form, the following 
seven complete stories, written by 

Mi*s. Henry Wood, 

one of the most popular and pleasing authors in the world, 
and which are usually sold, in book form, for from ^1.25 to 
$1.50 EACH. 

We offer the Seven Stokdes, bound in handsome English 
cloth, with elegant ornamental gold side and back stamp, 
sent by mail, post-paid, to any address, for only $1.50! Bound 
in heavy paper covers, $1.00. 

List sf St®H@s m send fer Si. 50: 

East Lynne; 

A Life’s Secret; 

Tlie Tale of Sin; 

Was He Severe? 

The Lost Banh-l^ote; 

The Doctor’s Daughter; 
The Haunted Tower* 

These stories are printed on fine heavy paper, from large, 
,fnew type, and we guarantee satisfaction in every respect to all 
purchasers. 

Ask your bookseller for ‘‘SOMETHING TO READ,” pub- 
lished by us; or send $1.50 to us and we will send them by 
mail, post-paid. . 

The stoeies aee not sold sepakatelt in this fokm. Wo 
want Agents to sell them in every town and village in the 
whole land, to whom we offer liberal terms. 

Address all orders and applications for Agency to 

J> S. OSiLVIE & 80., Publishers, 

P. O. Box. 2767. .uuf,d 25 Rose Street, New York. 


“BLUNDERS 

OF A 

BASHFUL MAN. 


By the Popular Author of “A Bad Boy’s Diary.’’ 

This is one of the most humorous books ever issued, and has been 
pronounced better than “A Bad Boy’s Diary.” 12mo, 160 pages, 
handsomely illustrated from original designs, including also the 
portrait and autograph of “The Bashful Man.” Price, paper 
cover, 35 cents. Handsomely bound in cloth, 60 cents. 

How the reading of it affected One Young Lady. 


Marysville, Mo., July 22, 1881. 

Author of “Bashful Man.” 

Dear Friend— Having read your story of the “Bashful Man,” and seeing 
the invitation at the close of the same, and after studying the matter over for 
a short time, came to the conclusion that I was the very girl lor you ; myself 
being of good family and an expert in cooking and everything pertaining to 
house- work. I am not an old maid or anything of that sort, but am just in 
the prime of life— my next birthday will be nineteen ; I am of medium height, 
and, if I do say it myself, good looking. Now, wanting to get a good husband, 
and thinking you would suit me, I am at your service. If you think I will do, 
just drop me a few lines, and I will then tell further what I can do. Till then 

I remain, sincerely yours, 

ANNA D. H * * * * 

P.8.— Please write any way.— A nna. 


The original of the above letter is on file at the office of the 
publishers. 

J. S. OGinviB «fe CO., Publishers, 

26 Rose Stbebt, New Tosk. 


the 


AIiBUH WRITERS FRIEHD 

Compiled by J. S. OGILVIE. 

Paper Cover, Fifteen Cents. Clotb, Thirty Ceirts. 


This is a new and choice collection of gems of Prose and Poetry, com- 
prising nearly 

THREE HUNDRED SELECTIONS. . 

the most of which are original and suitable for writing in Autograph Albums^ 
Valentines, and for Birthday and Wedding Celebrations. It also contains 
a new and choice collection of verses suitable for Christmas and New 
Year Cards. This is the only collection of such verses that has been 
printed. The many calls for such a collection has induced us to compile 
this book, and we offer it feeling assured that it will not only supply 
want, but that it will give entire satisfaction. 

It has been issued but a few weeks, and it has already received many 
commendations and endorsements from individuals and the Press, as 
being the 

BEST BOOK OP THE KIND 

that has been issued. The price is very low and it deserves, as we expect 
it will receive, a wide circulation. 

It contains 64 pages, and is bound in paper cover, price 16 Cente.? 
or handsomely bound in cloth, price 30 Cents. 

It is for sale hy every Newsdealer and Nwkseil&r in the United Sieves, 

Sirio ALL ORDERS TO 

J. S. OGLLVIE & CO., Publishers, 

25 Rose Steeet, New Toek. 






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